


Regret Me Not

by Durrant



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Typical Violence, Child Abduction, Kidfic, M/M, Minor Character Death, Past Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-17
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-01-09 02:12:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 68,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1140216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Durrant/pseuds/Durrant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>He was so used to the childish version of that face and the miniature body that accompanied it. He’d forgotten what that glacial beauty looked like on an adult, how Hannibal wore his masculinity like a predator. How could he blame Hannibal for human crimes when, even now, he was so much more than that?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The Ripper Copycat has abducted Will's son and, in desperation, he visits Hannibal to beg for his help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Good afternoon, Will.”

He’d forgotten about Lecter’s voice, deep and accented. He’d grown so used to seeing that face everyday that, somehow, he’d disassociated it from the man that now stood before him. Will didn’t even try to respond, he wasn’t here to exchange pleasantries. He wouldn’t be Lecter’s plaything ever again. 

“How are you?”

Will choked back the lump in his throat. A chair had been left out for him, in front of Lecter’s glass fronted cell. He sat down, more from an urge to try and control the situation, to aim for the correct protocol, than anything else.

“You seem upset.”

Will squeezed his hands together, pressing his thumb nails into the soft flesh of his palms. He’d thought he’d known Lecter so well, had lived in the man’s shadow for so long, but now he couldn’t even speak. Lecter’s voice was still infuriatingly calm. As if they were meeting like they had so many times in the past. As if Will had ever been anything more than a toy to him, a way to amuse himself between murders; something disposable that could be broken and thrown away. 

If he closed his eyes he could almost imagine that this was just another session; like he was back in Lecter’s office, before their relationship had become anything more than professional; like he was just getting to know Lecter again. As much as he had ever really known him. He let his eyes fall shut. The chair was cheap and plastic and uncomfortable. He hunched in it, his muscles sore from so many sleepless nights. 

“Tell me, which did you find was the greater betrayal; the killings, or the fact that I chose my own life over yours?”

Will lowered his head. He desperately wished he hated Hannibal for the deaths, for the mutilations and cannibalism, for the lives ripped apart. But how could he, when there was still so much of Hannibal still left inside his mind. Dark thoughts that haunted his nights, dreams of drinking the warm life blood that seeped out of his victims wounds. At night, Hannibal was always with him. By day, he had to put such thoughts away. His life was different now, he had other responsibilities. 

Will blinked his eyes open; he thought he’d cried out the last of his tears but now his eyes were wet again. He hadn’t seen Lecter’s face in years. But seeing him now, like this, only made him think of his beautiful son. His little boy looked so much like his father. 

He was so used to the childish version of that face and the miniature body that accompanied it. He’d forgotten what that glacial beauty looked like on an adult, how Hannibal wore his masculinity like a predator. How could he blame Hannibal for human crimes, when even now, he was so much more than that?

“I thought about coming before..After I..When I first found out, but then,” Will slid out of the chair, slumping on to the floor next to his pile of papers. “But then, I didn’t and… And then, later, everything seemed so different, like a different life, that I thought I could just start again.” His vision blurred through his teary eyes and his glasses fogged slightly. 

“Found out about what, Will?” Hannibal’s voice was so calm, so rational. There was a time when he’d thought Hannibal was the voice of sanity and he’d clung to it. His mind had been darkened in a perpetual storm of confusion and Hannibal the reassuring lifeline that he had clung to without realising what that lifeline had been pulling him towards. 

Hannibal stepped closer to the glass, so that Will could see his black shoes just behind the glass partition. They looked cheap and inelegant; his Hannibal would have despised wearing them. 

“I was pregnant. I,” Will gulped, struggling to find the words, trying to find the best way to inspire some paternal feeling in Hannibal so that he would agree to help him. “I kept the child. Your son. He, he looks like you.”

Hannibal’s eyes burned as they took him in, consuming him, devouring him. He wanted to look away, but this was a test and he could not fail. Whatever Hannibal saw in his face seemed to satisfy him, but Will hated him more than ever. This was the only man he’d ever felt comfortable enough with to look into his eye. He’d been in the minds of so many murderers, had killed with them, trapped in their minds. He’d been so alone, so incapable of having any kind of relationship with those around him; even friendships had seemed beyond him, strained and fraught. Then he’d met Hannibal and he hadn’t been alone anymore. 

“Show me,” Hannibal’s voice sounded lower, but Will didn’t want to look at him again. He already had too much of Hannibal inside him, he didn’t want to empathise with him any more. Didn’t want to become any more like him. Hannibal’s word were harsher, more brusque, compared to the unfailing politeness of the Hannibal that he had known. Perhaps it was a difference years spent in this dark cell had brought about. He told himself he didn’t want to know, he didn’t care how similar this caged man was to the man he had once imagined he was in love with. Will scrambled to get his wallet and pulled out a small photo; it was a close-up of him holding onto Alex, as the little boy smiled at the camera. The child was unmistakably Hannibal’s, even with a layer of baby fat; Hannibal’s well defined and heavy upper lip sat on chubby cheeks and Hannibal’s maroon eyes twinkled with childish glee.

The drawer to Hannibal’s cell slammed opened, but Will didn’t want to give him the photo. Didn’t want that monster to touch even a photograph of his precious boy. Instead, he pressed the photo to the glass. Hannibal crouched down, his eyes fixed intently on Will’s. Even with the glass in place, Will was paralysed, torn between fear and hope. Male pregnancy was so very rare, and Will was almost as scared that Hannibal wouldn’t believe the child existed as he was scared that Hannibal wouldn’t care about helping his newfound son. 

“I named him Alex, Alexander,” he glanced at Hannibal’s face. There was a stillness to that face as he stared at the picture. There was a time when Will would have thought that expression was blank, but now he knew the man too well. He could see the stirrings of emotion there.

“Your copycat took him, he’s been kidnapped. He left me a note saying he’ll give him back,” Will gulped back the lump in his throat, the despair he’d felt since he’d realised Alex was gone was leaching into his voice. “If I stop helping Jack try to find him. Please…” 

Will cut himself off with a gasp. His pleading would only fall on deaf ears. Begging was not the way to receive Hannibal’s mercy.

Hannibal turned away, and, away from the heady beam of Hannibal’s attention, Will let himself slump further onto the floor. He rested his head on the chair behind him, taking care not to put any weight on it so that it didn’t slip backwards. Hannibal had to know something about this copycat killer, someone was meticulously recreating each of the Chesapeake Ripper’s kills and there wasn’t a doubt in Will’s mind that the killer was an ex-patient of Hannibal’s. 

“ _Please_ ,” Will whispered brokenly. 

“Did you lactate, dear Will? Did you make milk for our child?” Hannibal called out, his back still to Will. He was so tall and his posture regal and incongruous in this grimy cell. Will felt a jolt of relief. _Our child_ Hannibal had said, he had accepted that Alex was indeed his.

Will stayed on the floor, his arms reaching to cradle his chest. He had produced breast milk. It hadn’t been enough for his little baby and he’d had to buy formula. It was another thing he’d failed at, another way society could judge him and find him lacking. His chest had barely swollen at all, and, even though he knew it was common for men who had given birth to be unable to produce milk, he had wished so much that he could have produced more. Even if that had meant that he would have grown large feminine breasts, he wouldn’t have cared. It wouldn’t have been a loss of masculinity. It would have been a sign that the child was his, and that he would be a good parent; that his child would never need his other father. 

Will nodded jerkily. Hannibal turned quickly, as if he’d only just remembered that Will tended to give nonverbal answers. Will knew it was contrived, Hannibal was always completely aware of his actions.

“What did it feel like to have my child suckling on you? All this time, you’ve thought of me every single day, haven’t you, Will?”

He looked up properly, finally able to look Lecter in the eye. It wasn’t something he was often able to do in real life, although for years he had dreamt of doing just this. A thousand times he’d relived that moment he realised who Hannibal was, what he was. In his dreams, he didn’t gasp out his realisation and Hannibal didn’t lash out at him, like a cornered animal, angry and wild as it desperately struggled to survive. In his dreams, he kept silent. He always woke up before he did anything else; he could never be sure that he would have told Jack the truth about Hannibal. Lying in bed, sticky with sweat, he always wanted to believe that he would have turned Hannibal in. But by the time he woke up, it was always morning and such thoughts must be put away in the day time. Will knew he was not meant to be a parent, but he refused to concede defeat as his own parents had. He might lack the temperament, perhaps even the mental capacity, to be a father but he would never stop trying. Not while his little Alex needed him. Right now, his little boy needed him more than ever. 

“He’s your son too! He’s in danger because some lunatic…” Will’s voice had raised to a yell without him even noticing and he stopped himself again. He couldn’t antagonise Hannibal, he needed his help too much. He couldn’t be rude and yell, couldn’t blame him for this, even though this whole situation was Hannibal’s fault. Alex would be safely tucked up in bed if this maniac hadn’t decided to idolise Hannibal and lovingly recreate every kill that had been painstakingly detailed at his trial.

“Just look at the cases, just…” Will begged, still huddled on the floor. His child could be dead already and the only thing he could do was beseech his attempted murderer for help. 

“Stand up, Will,” Hannibal said, his voice a mild mask of reason, the doctor calming his patient. Will got to his feet slowly and shivered; he was sweating despite the cold and his shirt was already sticking to his back. This wasn’t the time for his anger, he needed Hannibal’s help. He wasn’t sure if the man even cared that his son was in danger but Will wanted to believe that he would help him. Will wanted so desperately that even with his empathy, he couldn’t fathom Hannibal not helping him. 

“Give me the case files. I will need an hour to look through them. Return then and we shall see if I can be of any assistance.” Hannibal sat at his desk and peered at the papers scattered there; it was an obvious dismissal.

“Thank you,” Will gasped out before catching his lower lip between his teeth and biting down. Hannibal hadn’t agreed to do anything more than read over a few cases. He put the pile of paperwork into the drawer that connected Hannibal’s cell to the corridor and pushed it closed. The sound of the metal tray rang out loudly, echoing in the confined space. “I’ll be back in an hour,” Will garbled. For the first time in days, he felt a sense of hope. Hannibal nodded without looking round at him and Will had the impression that he wouldn’t even look through the case files. That he had sent Will away only so that he could think about what Will had told him. If the man wasn’t such a monster, Will might have pitied him; to suddenly learn that he was a father, only to learn that that child’s life was threatened. Will hung his head as he made his way back to the guards station, walking past the other inmates; he did not want to empathise with Hannibal, no matter how easy it was to do.

The orderly gave him a sympathetic smile and, seeming to realise how distraught Will was, led him up the twisting stairs and corridors, until finally he was outside. The cold air hit his face and startled him from his daze just in time to murmur a subdued thanks to the man. It was raining gently; the soft drizzle hid the tears that were running down his cheek and he didn’t bother rushing to get into his car. By the time he got into the dry rental car, fifteen minutes had already passed since he’d left Lecter. Time seemed to be passing oddly, his whole existence revolving around Hannibal’s response to his plea for help. He only had to wait forty-five more minutes for the man’s answer. 

He started the engine reflexively and clutched hold of the steering wheel. He had to believe that Hannibal would help him, would tell him who the Ripper Copycat was or, better yet, tell him where Alex was. Despite everything, he retained an unwavering faith in Hannibal’s puissance. 

After all, it was the way that Hannibal seemed to control everything around him that had first attracted Will to the man. He’d never questioned his sexuality before he’d met Hannibal, but the man’s calm assurance had been the balm that he’d realised he had been craving all his life. Perhaps it hadn’t been real. Perhaps it had all been a trick, a manipulation as Hannibal had molded him like so much formless clay; but he’d never been as happy as he had been in that short time he had spent with Hannibal. He’d even made his way into Will’s dreams, into the heart of his fervid visions and left a piece of himself there. He hated Hannibal for abandoning him, but he knew he should hate him for being monster. The monster who was Will’s only hope of seeing his son alive again. 

It had stopped drizzling when he got out of the car. It hadn’t been quite an hour since he’d left Hannibal, but it would take him a few minutes to walk there and to deal with all the orderlies again. He pushed open the heavy doors of Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. The receptionist recognised him and gave a curt nod before picking up a phone and telling someone that Will Graham had just come in. She set the telephone down with a heavy thunk and gave Will disdainful glance. He shuffled forward, stopping in front of her raised desk. 

“I, uh, I’m here to see Dr Lecter again. I was just here,” Will explained, keeping his eyes on her disapproving chin. The woman sighed impatiently. 

“Yes, well, _Dr_ Chilton would like to see you first. If you’d just sit and wait, I’m sure he won’t be long,” she said in a supercilious tone and a jab of her chin in the direction of the uncomfortable looking chairs that lined the hallway. Will pursed his lips, but knew there was no point saying anything else. He’d have to play along with Chilton’s games for a little bit longer. He couldn’t afford to upset anyone, he needed Chilton to be on his side, to grant him access to Hannibal. He fidgeted as he sat and tried to calm the small voice in his head that said this women was unforgivably _rude._

“Aah, there you are, _Mr_ Graham,” Dr Chilton called out, his oily voice startled Will. He swallowed back a sarcastic retort at Chilton’s unsubtle dig at the fact that he was no longer a Special Agent. The man had always been repulsive, and, now that he needed to be nice to him, the man was practically making his skin crawl. “I’ll escort you down to the top security corridor.”

“Thank you, Dr Chilton. Actually, I was here earlier, I already know the way,” Will said; it was a half-truth, he could barely remember anything that had happened since Alex had been taken. It was one long, painful blur until he found himself in front if Hannibal’s cell, begging for his help.

‘Well, we wouldn’t want you getting lost, now would we?” Chilton smiled condescendingly and stood a little too close to him as they made their way down the stairs. “So the FBI has decided to ask Lecter for help with his copycat, hmm? The Ripper Copycat?” Chilton asked conceitedly, as if Hannibal was his pet rather than his patient. Will shrugged and made a noise that could be considered agreement; Chilton smirked.

Will stopped, mid-stride, and stumbled down a stair. Chilton grabbed on to him to stop him from slipping further and Will felt such a rage, that Chilton would dare touch him, curl through him. This man had listened in to his earlier conversation with Hannibal and now wanted to eavesdrop more, he was a pathetic little man desperate to cling to the coat tails of a much greater man to try and scrape a little fame and respect for himself. 

“I’ve been putting together some material for my new book, detailing some of the techniques I’m using on Lecter and so forth,” Chilton waved his hand dismissively. Someone who didn’t know the man might think that he was actually making sense, but Will knew that Chilton was doing nothing but scrabbling to catch whatever crumbs Hannibal let fall to him. “Well, here we are. Now, if Hannibal _is_ able to help you with your inquiries, I do hope you’ll remember how helpful we all were here, hmm?”

Chilton gave him a tight smile and Will shuffled awkwardly; his child was danger and yet he had to play nice with Chilton. A stray thought floated across his mind; why had Hannibal left so very many rude people still alive and undigested? 

“Of course, Dr Chilton.” Will murmured, struggling to remain polite. The orderly who had escorted him outside earlier was standing behind Chilton, ready to open the locked door for Will. Chilton gave him one last, insincere, smile and then stood aside. Will passed through the doorway and entered Hannibal’s corridor. Earlier, he had been too pre-occupied to notice the lunatics encased in the cells. He kept his eyes on the floor and tried to not hear the mutterings as he passed by each prisoner. 

The chair that Will had sat on earlier was still out, but it had been moved, as if someone else had been down here, talking to Lecter. The idea angered him. Why was someone else allowed to interrupt Hannibal’s hour, when he had been sent away? It must have been Chilton, so jealous of any interaction with Hannibal that might lead him to academic glory. 

“Hello, again. I see it’s raining outside. Please, do have a towel,” Hannibal said politely as he took a towel that was hanging from his little wash basin and put it into the tray. He pushed the tray through gently, and this time the metal clicked smoothly into position. Will’s wet hair dripped onto his collar, droplets of water ran down his neck; a minor irritation he would have ignored if Hannibal hadn’t called attention to it.

Will took the towel gingerly. It was thin and raggedy and so different from Hannibal’s previous life. This wasn’t the first time he’d been wrapped in Hannibal’s towels. The two of them had shared a shower once. Hannibal had slowly washed away the dried sweat from his naked body and then wrapped him in his thick luxuriant towels. He’d even warmed them, just for Will. Hannibal had always been the most thoughtful of hosts. How Will had longed for him then. He’d known that there was something between them, that this was not how psychiatrists usually dealt with their patients, but he’d been too awkward to do anything more than lightly peck at Hannibal’s lips with a chaste kiss. Hannibal had smiled at him; it hadn’t been quite a rejection, not even a rebuff. Looking back, Will knew it had been a lure. Baiting him and stoking his desire, until Will thought he would go mad with it. All of it had been Hannibal’s manipulations, the twisted game of a madman. 

Will pulled the towel from his shoulders and angrily threw it back into Hannibal’s tray. Hannibal watched him serenely, like he was still Hannibal’s patient.

“Have you looked through the files? Do you...Do you think he’s alive?”

Hannibal tilted his head consideringly.

“I don’t think there’s anything I can do to help you.”

The air rushed from Will’s lungs and he threw his arms around himself, hugging himself tightly. It felt like Hannibal was trying to kill him all over again. His stomach ached with a pain more real than when his lover had tried to gut him. 

“He’s _your son!”_

“If you had hoped for that argument to persuade me, you should have told me of his existence long before now. It might have allowed some paternal feelings to develop.”

“So, so you know who it is? Don’t you? You know who has Alex?”

Hannibal pulled the metal tray back to his side and took the now slightly damp towel out. His nostrils flared, as if he were smelling the thing, but he did not raise it to his nose. 

“Time, I think, for you to leave, good Will.”

“Hannibal! Please!” Will screamed, his disbelief somehow greater even than his pain. It was impossible that Hannibal wouldn’t help him. This must be some sort of waking nightmare, a hallucination, because he couldn’t conceive of a reality where Hannibal wouldn’t help Alex.

“Alana said I shouldn’t come, that you wouldn’t help, that…” that he was too vulnerable to Hannibal’s manipulations. Jack had sat behind his desk, facing them both and staying silent. After Lecter’s incarceration there had been too many inquires into how the FBI hadn’t spotted the killer in their midst. Jack was no longer so willing to push Will as much, he was under too much scrutiny from his own superiors. When Will had said he would go to Hannibal for help, Jack hadn’t objected.

Hannibal had taken up residence in the empty corners of his mind. He was still a useful tool for Jack, but somehow just a little duller than before. His empathy blunted by Hannibal’s shadow. He had thought he’d known, been so very sure, even when everyone around him had doubted it, that Hannibal would help.

“ _Please!_ ” he yelled again. There had to be some way to convince him, something he could say. The orderly must have heard his screams; the man was rushing down the corridor towards him.

“Please, help me find my son, Hannibal!” Will’s voice broke and he gulped back air to try and beg some more.

But the orderly put a large arm around his shoulders and was dragging him away. His vision was going blurry, but he saw Hannibal one last time before the orderly shuffled him further back and away from his last hope. Hannibal, the man he had once imagined himself in love with, was standing preternaturally still and watching him with an air of detached interest. Will screamed inarticulately and let himself be led away.


	2. Chapter 2

Alana’s eyes were full of pity. Everyone looked at him with some degree of pity; even Jack, who had always preferred righteous anger to pity, treated him with kid gloves. 

He felt empty and dry. He’d cried out every part of him and now he just felt hollow as he sat waiting in Jack’s office. Alana sat patiently beside him, her legs slightly closer to his than he was comfortable with, but it wasn’t worth the effort of moving to get away from her. 

“We will find him, Will. Asking Lecter for assistance was always a long shot,” Alana said. Will glanced at her face and looked away. None of them knew that Alex was Hannibal’s son. Some of them might suspect it, but no-one had known how close Will and Hannibal had once been. 

He’d only returned here to help Jack with the Ripper Copycat. He’d uprooted them from Florida, from the sun and the waves to his desolate house in Wolf Trap, because Jack had asked him too. Because Jack had bullied him into it, reminding him how much he owed Jack for keeping Will out of Hannibal’s trial, for not forcing him to testify. Will was grateful; although he knew Jack would not have hesitated to subpoena him if Hannibal’s conviction hadn’t been completely guaranteed without Will’s help. 

Here he was, yet again, paying the price for aiding Jack. Once it had been with his mind. Now it was with his son.

“Will, Alana,” Jack called out, his bulky frame leaning tiredly against the door, rather than stepping into his office. “There’s some bad news.”

Will froze. His head exploding with pain and his body swaying, rocking back and forth. Jack was going to tell him they’d found Alex. That he was dead. His beautiful baby. He hugged his arms to his chest and squeezed his eyes shut. A vision of Alex’s lifeless corpse, his little mouth hanging loosely open and insensate, a vision his imagination had conjured up as he lay in bed every night, sprang forth. 

Alana’s hand was on his knee and he shook his leg, trying to get her off him, to stop touching him.

“Will! It’s not Alex! It’s Lecter, he’s escaped.”

Beside him, Will heard Alana gasp in shock but Will could only sob in relief. His Alex was still out there; still alive. Still alive; the words thrummed through him. A bittersweet comfort. 

“How could this happen?” Alana demanded. Jack took his seat behind the large desk, the weight of the world on his shoulders as he sighed deeply.

“Apparently, Dr Chilton had been making some modifications to Lecter’s cell. Installing cameras, which Lecter found this afternoon after you left, Will. This evening he faked an injury and was taken to the Infirmary. There he was able to use some of the camera parts to pick open his shackles. He killed four orderlies outright, two more are in the hospital. There’s a team investigating already, but - ”

Will huddled into his chair and let the comforting waves of Jack’s anger wash over him. After all, what did it matter to Will if Hannibal was on the loose? If he wouldn’t help him find Alex, then Hannibal might as well kill him; the two things were almost the same. Jack droned on, but Will could only concentrate on the thought that there was still hope, that Alex was still out there. 

“Will? Will?” Alana patted his shoulder, “What do you think? Do you want to stay here? Spend the night in protective custody, just until Lecter’s caught?”

Will almost laughed. Hannibal was never going to be caught, they’d got lucky once, but now he was gone, he was never coming back. 

“What about Alex? I have to get home, in case, in case…” Will trailed off. Alex wasn’t just going to turn up in Wolf Trap, it was a stupid idea, sentimental and foolish, but Will knew he had to get home. Alana agreed demurely and offered to drive him out there while Jack watched in silence. He supposed he must look very broken indeed, if even Jack Crawford was letting him go without pressing for insights into Hannibal’s mind. 

“I’d rather drive myself. I, I want to clear my head, you know?” Will said stumbling upright. Through Jack’s open door he saw agents scrambling around. Hannibal’s escape had set the cat among the pigeons and everyone was feeling the effects. Except Will. It didn’t matter where Hannibal was, only Alex. 

Agents scurried past him as he made his way to his car. They seemed so different from him, like a different species, concerned with such trivial things compared to the loss of his son. Their faces scrunched and worried about the consequences of Hannibal’s escape, when they should have been weeping, like Will was. 

The road to Wolf Trap stretched on forever. They’d been living here for a few weeks, ever since Jack had asked him for his help with the Copycat Ripper, but he rarely made this drive alone. Usually he’d have Alex with him; the little boy passed out asleep on the back seat and the radio turned down low so as not to disturb him. 

The house had a slightly disused feel to it, despite the past few weeks of occupancy. Alex hadn’t seemed to notice, he’d loved the place. There was space for him to run around and play the strange, solitary games that he so enjoyed. Floorboards creaked as Will let himself in, a slight noise, that made Will think he wasn’t alone. Perhaps he wasn’t, perhaps Hannibal was already here, waiting in the darkness to kill him, to finish the job he’d started all those years ago. It didn’t matter. 

Will poured himself a drink and sagged down on to the couch. They’d fallen into a routine whilst living here. Will would put Alex to bed and then come down here and work. His coffee table would be covered with crime scene photos, but every now and then he’d lean back and look up at the ceiling, happy in the knowledge that his son was just above him. Safe from all the monsters of the world. Will stared up at the ceiling and felt sleep overwhelming him. Alex’s bedroom was empty again tonight. 

_He was running through the forest, ahead of him he could hear a child crying and he ran faster, wanting to help. He skidded to a halt inside the clearing and watched warily as the little girl sobbed, she was wearing a long nightgown that might once have been white, but now dripped with blood._

_“It’s time,” Hannibal said, stepping out from the trees; but when Will turned to look at him properly he saw Alex instead. It was Hannibal’s face, but balanced on Alex’s smaller body. “It’s time,” he repeated, Hannibal’s adult voice coming from the child’s mouth._

_The little girl cried harder and picked up a hunting knife. She screamed, rushing at the child that was a mixture of Hannibal and Alex and Will knew he had to stop her. He put his head down and charged. His antlers pierced her flesh, gouging into her small body._

_He lifted his head, her body was heavy and it was impaled on his horns. As he raised his head the girl’s body was lifted too; it slid down, hitting the top of his head. Her blood flowed down across his face and he licked his lips, tasting the sweet blood. It tasted like victory and he could feel her death making him stronger. He wanted her corpse gone, but when he shook his head the body seemed to become even more wedged in place; fixed and immovable._

_The other child smiled at him, walking towards him calmly. Will thought he was going to help him, to get the corpse from off his head so he knelt down, bowing before the boy. But the boy didn’t help him, he knelt down too and kissed Will’s nose._

_“Whose design is this?” the boy asked with a man’s deep, accented voice._

He woke at dawn with a crick in his neck from sleeping on the couch. 

In the last few years, he’d fallen into such a routine. It was for Alex’s benefit really but Will found himself getting ready for day, showering and cooking breakfast, almost unconsciously. It was only when he sat down to eat breakfast at a table laid for two that he realised what he’d done. 

He sat staring at the plate he’d set in front of Alex’s chair. The smell of the food made him feel sick, but he sat, motionless, until the food got cold and the smell wasn’t so strong. 

Alana called him later. There wasn’t much to say. There still hadn’t been any reports of Lecter but everyone was working very hard. Will struggled not to snap at her. Why was she bothering to talk about Hannibal? She should know better than to phone unless it was information about Alex. His son knew his cell phone number, what if he escaped his captor and tried to ring his daddy, but Alana was running down his battery with useless chatter about Hannibal? He plugged his phone into its charger and made an excuse to end the conversation. 

There were no dogs in the house. Alex was allergic to their fur, so they couldn’t have pets in Florida and all of the dogs from his old pack had moved on to other homes. It made the house seem bigger, emptier. 

He felt useless, not even really human. His drink from last night was still on the coffee table. Will threw it away, tipping the amber liquid down the sink, and resisted the urge to pour himself another one. Instead, he sat in his son’s bedroom. Alex always had such strong likes and dislikes; he always hated the bright and garish bed sheets that most children had. There was no cartoon character adorning his duvet and the only toy he had was a strange creature that Alex insisted was a dinosaur. Will had always thought it looked like a grey coffee pot with a tail, but Alex had loved it from the moment he’d seen it. Will hugged the toy closer. It smelled of Alex. 

There was a noise outside. Someone was down there. Will put the toy down and listened intently. There was definitely someone outside the house. There was a light knocking, as if small hands were rapping on the front door. It had to be Alex, he was home and, before Will could second guess himself, he ran downstairs and flung the front door open.

“ _Alex!_ ”

It was really him, standing and grinning and just waiting for his daddy. Will ran out onto the porch and caught his little boy in a tight hug. His arms and legs were shaking; his little boy was home, safely back in his arms. 

“My baby, my baby, you’re safe, you’re home now!”

Alex threw his arms around Will’s neck and let his father clutch onto him. Will pushed his head back to look at his son’s face.

“Are you hurt?”

Alex grinned wider still and shook his head. The porch was deserted apart from the two of them. Will hadn’t even heard a car pull up. 

“Oh, God! I’ve been so worried, how did you get here? Where have you been?!”

Alex nuzzled his face into his father’s neck and sniffed thoughtfully.

“A man came to get me from the mean lady’s house, and he said it was time to go home. He kept on calling me Sasha and I told him that’s a girl’s name, but he said that’s only true in America and..and..” Alex trailed off, his little head resting on Will’s shoulder. His son was usually so quiet, but being reunited with his father had him bursting with stories. “And he said we had the same color eyes, and look, _look,_ Daddy, we do!”

Alex tugged at his hair until Will looked into his son’s face. He never wanted to let him go again, never wanted to put him down or let anyone else touch him ever again. Hannibal had brought Alex back. Hannibal hadn’t refused to help him, he’d just refused to give him information because he wanted to bring Alex home himself. The man was a monster and a madmen, but Will was overcome by gratitude nonetheless. 

“Yeah, you’ve got the same color eyes. Did he, uh..,” Will stalled, he wanted to know everything that Hannibal had done; what he had said to Alex; if he had hurt him. 

“Why are you crying, Daddy?” Alex asked, his finger rubbed Will’s cheek wetly. He hadn’t realised that he was crying and the sensation came as a surprise. 

“I’m happy, my little fawn, so happy you’re home.”

Will didn’t put the child down as he went back inside, holding his son as close as he could. Alex seemed tired and was content to just stay in Will’s arms as he phoned Jack and let him know that his boy had returned, unscathed. Time flew past, but Will couldn’t seem to open his arms and let his son go, even when Jack arrived at his house, trailing agents in his wake but there was little they could do. There was no forensic evidence to examine, no corpse to analyse. Only a little boy to question.

Alex sat on Will’s lap as Alana interviewed the him; Jack waited outside, surrounded by agents moving around and trampling the uncared for grass around Will’s house. . 

“I was at Rachel’s house, cos Daddy was at work, but then Rachel got sick and she fell asleep. Rachel’s not in any trouble, is she, Daddy?” Alex asked, turning wide eyes up to look at him with concern. 

“No, no. She’s not in trouble, we just need to know what happened next.”

“There was a lady, and she was really nice, and she said that she knew Rachel was ill and that she was there to look after me and that you were really busy, so I had to go with her for a few days.”

Alana smiled gently but Alex frowned at her and looked up at his father. Will smiled tightly. He _had_ been spending too much time on the Ripper Copycat case, of course his son would believe that he would just abandon him for days on end. 

“And she drove for ages and I didn’t see anything I recognised and then we got to her house and she said I had to be a good boy or otherwise Daddy wouldn’t come and get me. She said, sometimes, if children are bad then daddies forget about them…” Alex hesitated, glancing nervously up at Will. Annoyingly, Alana spoke up before Will could say anything. 

“Alex, your Daddy loves you very much. The woman who took you away was very bad, and she was lying to you, ok?”

Alex nodded vaguely as Will tightened his grip around the boy’s waist. 

“What happened next, Alex?” Alana asked. She kept on using his name, and every time she did Will became a little angrier. 

“She showed me to my bedroom and she locked the door cos she said it was safetiest like that and then she would unlock it and give me food or take me to the restroom, but there was no TV and no Dodie and no stories. But I was good, cos I wanted Daddy to come and get me.” Alex stopped suddenly. Will wasn’t sure if he was squeezing him more tightly, but he couldn’t let go and Alex didn’t seem to want to say anymore.

“Will you tell me about how you got home, please, Alex?” Alana asked. 

“I was asleep...And then the bedroom door opened and there was a man there, but his face was all covered and at first I was scared, but then he was nice and he said it was time to go home and he brought me here, but he said I had to walk all the way up to the house and that Daddy would be waiting for me. And he was! And he gave me a big hug and then he cried, even though he said he was happy.”

“Hmm, your daddy was very happy to see you again, he was very worried about you. Can you tell me anything else about the man that brought you home? He does sound like a nice man. How did you know not to be scared of him, when he first opened the bedroom door, Alex?”

Alex put his hand in Will’s, pulling gently on his fingers and suddenly looking uncomfortable. He gave a one shouldered shrug. 

“He said Daddy hadn’t forgotten about me, and that Daddy had sent him and I knew that Daddy would only send a nice man to come and get me.”

Will knew he was lying, but kept silent. What did it matter that Hannibal had brought him back? Hannibal had let him go, he hadn’t stolen Alex away; he’d given Will his son back and, in return, Will could be silent about this. 

“Thank you, Alex. You’ve been a very brave boy and I want you to let me know if you can remember anything else later on, ok?” Alana said gently, reaching out to rub Alex’s shoulder. Will wondered how she didn’t notice that the boy seemed to flinch away from her, pressing further into Will. Alex only relaxed after Alana left the room, leaving two of them alone.

“That wasn’t exactly the entire truth, now was it, Alex?” Will said softly. “Did you recognise the woman who took you?”

Alex smiled at him and shook his head; this time Will believed him. Will kissed his hair and wondered how his son had got so good at lying. “And the man that brought you back?”

Alex looked around the room, his little head swinging round with exaggerated care as he checked that no one was listening to them.

“He said I should call him Papa,” Alex whispered conspiratorially, “And not to tell anyone, except you, cos sometimes families have to do things in private. That’s right, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s right. You did very well.”

Alex beamed up at him, but his smile turned into a massive yawn.

“So, aside from meeting Papa, what else happened?”

Alex cocked his head and seemed to consider for a few long moments. 

“On the way home, I told Papa all about Dodie and he said it was a good name for a dinosaur because a litter is important and it shows I’m intelligent. But, but before, in the room in the mean lady’s house, it was really boring and the lady, she smelled funny...like, like medicine.”

Will frowned, sometimes his son would make odd comments about how things smelled. Hannibal had had an amazing sense of smell as well. It was a connection between the two of them that was more personal than just similar faces; that was always so obvious. But this was an invisible bond between the two of them. He hoped Hannibal hadn’t discovered it.

"Come on then, bed time!” Will said, standing up and carrying his son from the room. He saw Alana and Jack whispering to each in low voices by his open front door, but his arms were full and he had more important things to do than go and join their discussion. Alex yawned heartily; Will wasn’t sure when he’d last heard his son talk so much, he was usually such a quiet child and his interview had tired him out.

Alex mumbled about it still being light out as Will tucked him into bed, but the boy was too tired to complain much. He sat on the floor next to his son’s bed, keeping hold of the boy’s hand and lost in thought. Hannibal had returned his son, but that wasn’t necessarily a guarantee of anything. He could still easily wish Will dead, and Will didn’t want to spend the rest of his life hiding away. But he wasn’t alone anymore, he couldn’t risk his life frivolously when Alex depended on him. He would have to confront Hannibal, and the best time to that was now, whilst the liberation and return of Alex was still fresh in his mind. Whilst he still thought that Will was providing a good home for Alex to be returned to. If Hannibal did intend to visit him then he had to make sure that it was as easy for him as possible. He couldn’t let Jack take Alex and him into protective custody, couldn’t even let him station agents to guard the house. If Hannibal did decide to pay them a visit then it would be a death sentence for anyone else who was at the house. 

Will tried to tell himself that he was coming to this decision logically, and not just because he wanted to see Hannibal again. As he made his way downstairs to talk to Jack, he couldn’t quite persuade himself that that was true. After all, the chances were that Hannibal would kill him, he hadn’t seemed particularly fond of Will when he’d spoken to Hannibal in his cell. But part of him yearned for Hannibal, for the man he had used to know and rely on, despite the danger.

“Well?” Jack barked out before he was even halfway down the stairs. Will looked as Jack’s tie and started to lie.

“It can’t be the Copycat, our killer is a man. This was opportunistic, unrelated to the case -”

“Wait a second, are we sure that the Ripper Copycat isn’t a woman? Doesn’t this seem a little odd to you? And what about the note that was left at the babysitter’s?” Alana interrupted, “Will, I just think you’re too close to this to be able to see things clearly.”

Will pulled himself up to his full height and turned away, angling to face Jack directly. 

“And the _nice man_ that rescued Alex, just hours after Lecter escaped State Hospital? You don’t think that’s a coincidence? Couldn’t it have been Lecter himself?” Alana continued.

Will scoffed. 

“Hannibal Lecter is hardly anybody’s idea of a nice man,” Will said, shrinking back into himself as he realised that there was a time when he’d thought of Hannibal as just that. The others might not know for sure quite how far things had gone between them, but judging by the glance that Jack and Alana shared, they had guessed. 

“I agree with Will. Say Lecter does know who the Ripper Copycat is, and _suppose_ that it was the copycat that took Alex, Lecter would still have no reason to help Alex, especially not to return him uninjured. It has to be a coincidence, there’s no way that Lecter had the means to escape and simply chose not to until he found a good enough reason to bother,” Jack sighed heavily, nodding at Will.

Will shivered. He still couldn’t quite believe that Alex was back, home and asleep in his bed, unscathed. It was a dream come true. Alana shot him a pitying glance.

“Alright, just station a few - “ she began.

“No!” Will said, too forcefully. “The whole abduction has nothing to do with the case. Lecter is long gone, and Alex and I definitely don’t need any protection.”

Jack grimaced and then nodded his head curtly. 

“What?” Alana screeched, “Jack! We can’t leave him alone out here! What about Lecter?”

“Dr Bloom, if Will thinks that this is unrelated to the case then there’s not much I can do. With Lecter on the loose it would be better for Will to be in protective custody, but that’s his decision. He knows the risks.”

Will hid his smile at Alana’s frustration. Jack’s all consuming focus on the case in front of him had nearly driven Will mad in the past, but now he was taking advantage of the man’s distraction. Jack was expecting another body from the Ripper Copycat, and Will’s problems were easy to dismiss. Jack’s men were already stretched too thin, and Will’s insistence that he didn’t need to take any more of that manpower was just a balm to his conscience. 

Alana snorted resignedly after Jack as he stalked off to see if there had been any evidence left behind by the man who had dropped Alex off. 

“Will,” she started, her voice appeasing, “I know this is a very difficult time, but there’s no reason to do this alone. We both know that Lecter is going to come after you. Come in for a few days, just to be safe.”

Will laughed.

“For a few days? If you’re so sure that he’s going to come after me then spending a few days in a cell isn’t going to make much difference! He’d just wait me out.”

“And Alex? What would happen to him once Lecter catches up with you?”

Will shrugged, faking lack of concern. 

“Please, Will. If not for me, then at least for Alex.” Alana pleaded. There was a time when he would have given in, just to please her. But those days were long past, now she seemed rather vulgar, trying to exchange her obvious charms for his obedience. Will shook his head.

“Not even for him,” Will said as if he weren’t doing all this for Alex’s benefit. His best hope of surviving Hannibal was to confront him, head on and nothing would dissuade him from that.

It was dusk by the time the last of the FBI agents had driven off. Will waved them off with a smile. He’d spent the whole afternoon checking on Alex every five minutes. Just checking he was still there, that he was alright, that he was safe. The house felt good again; the grass was a little trampled, but the world had been righted and nothing, not even the prospect of an encounter with Hannibal, could dampen his spirits. 

It was dark, an hour later, when he heard a noise in Alex’s bedroom and knew his son must be stirring. He smiled wider, thinking that he should get Alex up for a few hours so that he would be able to sleep through the whole night, even though he’d slept all afternoon.

The door to Alex’s bedroom was shut, even though Will knew that he’d left it open. He’d wanted to hear if Alex called out in his sleep. It had to be Hannibal, coming for him already. Will knew it would happen, but his heart raced anyway. He hadn’t expected it to be so soon, he hadn’t expected Hannibal to pay attention to Alex. He’d assumed that Hannibal would leave Alex alone, but he’d been mistaken. Hannibal would do to Alex what he had done to Abigail all those years ago. His hand shook with fear. He couldn’t lose Alex, not now; not after just getting him back. 

Will bowed his head, and opened the door. Hannibal was waiting for him.

His suit looked just as expensive and well put together as any that he had worn in the past. It lacked the bold patterns that had always screamed of money and style, but it was of higher quality than anything Will owned. His hair wasn’t slicked back anymore, and it made him look more relaxed. The harsh lines of his face contrasted with the looseness of his hair and made him as beautiful as Will remembered. He looked older than he had before his incarceration; there were lines on his face that were new, but age suited him. Made him more attractive to Will. 

“Put him down.” Anything else he might have once felt for Hannibal, anything he imagined he felt for the man now, was lost in a wave of blinding fear. Hannibal was holding on to Alex and he might do anything to him. Hannibal gave him a chiding look, as if Will’s fear was slightly uncouth. 

“Dear Will, that is hardly necessary. You were the one, after all, who went to the trouble of telling me about the existence of your little fawn.”

Alex shifted sleepily in Hannibal’s arms, his dark curls commingling with Hannibal’s dirty blond hair. Will blanched. He should never have called Alex by that pet name, it was too damning, but the endearment had slipped off his tongue when he’d seen how much Alex looked like his father. 

“You already killed our daughter, I’m not exactly going to trust you again,” Will hissed, trying to keep his anger out of his voice so as not to disturb Alex. The second the words were out of his mouth, Will realised his mistake. He should be angry at Hannibal for every murder that he had committed, for nearly killing Will himself, not just for the death of Abigail. 

“Our daughter? Do you believe that I killed Abigail?” Hannibal sounded faintly surprised. Alex, his sleep disturbed by Hannibal’s voice, turned his head and burrowed his nose into Hannibal’s neck. The two of them looked so right together that Will wanted to scream. Alex was his son, how dare Hannibal interfere.

“Didn’t you?”

“I did.”

Will ground his teeth and took an uncertain step forward. He’d known Abigail was dead, had mourned for her as he lay in the hospital bed nursing the wound Hannibal had given him. When he’d found out that he was pregnant it had been a blessing, despite who the father was. It was a second chance. He couldn’t let Hannibal take another of his children from him.

“But only after she abducted Sasha.”

 _”What?_ That, that, that can’t be right. Why would she abduct him?”

Alex stirred a little in his sleep and Hannibal cast Will an annoyed glance before running a soothing hand down Alex’s back. Will shook his head as he realised the implications of what Hannibal was saying. 

“She. You’re saying she was the Ripper Copycat? But why? And why take Alex?”

Hannibal gave an elegant hum and bent to put Alex into his small bed. Will breathed a sigh of relief as Hannibal released his son, but Hannibal did not let him go so easily. He brought the blanket up to Alex’s shoulders and tucked him in before wiping a hand across the little boy’s forehead. Alex muttered something in his sleep and turned his face into his father’s hand. 

“You will find that sibling rivalry is a terrible thing, dear Will,” Hannibal said, standing up. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind, today has been a long and exceedingly tiring day and I would like some rest.”

Will gaped at him in astonishment.

“I’m calling Jack as soon as you leave.”

Hannibal smirked knowingly and Will realised that Hannibal was never leaving. Hannibal would be with him till the day Will died. Hannibal put his hand on the small of Will’s back, turning him and gently pushed him out of Alex’s bedroom. 

“Are you tired, or would you prefer a nightcap before we retire?”

“We?!” Will exclaimed, his legs freezing. If Hannibal hadn’t still been pushing him, he would have stumbled. Hannibal scoffed. 

“I have been very trusting, but even I would hesitate to leave you alone in the state you are in now.”

Will let himself be maneuvered into his bedroom. Hannibal already knew the way. 

“Well? Now what?” Will asked angrily as Hannibal closed the door behind him. 

“Now, we get ready for bed,” Hannibal said calmly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and he was surprised that Will even had to ask such a thing. 

“You can’t be serious!” Will exclaimed, but Hannibal just stared at him, blocking the doorway. Will waited, expecting something else, some new question, some threat but Hannibal was silent and motionless. It felt unreal, to see Hannibal again, like this; Will had expected something else, some big confrontation, but Hannibal was so calm, so rational. Will had no idea what the man was planning; if he intended to kill Will or if he just wanted a chance to meet his son again. The last few days had been too draining and even now, as he faced his own, possibly imminent, death, he found all he cared about was the fact that Alex was safe.

They both stood, waiting for the other to make the first move. Surprisingly it was Hannibal who broke the silence. 

“Do you still have nightmares, Will?”

Will sighed angrily. He couldn’t get away. He had very little choice but to obey the man, but he’d be damned before he let him psychoanalyze him. He started to strip, throwing his jeans and shirt on the back of a chair as he did. He could feel Hannibal’s displeasure at seeing clothes so casually strewn about. It was almost funny. Will stood for a second in his t-shirt and boxers, then dove on to the bed, pulling the sheets up with him. He didn’t want to feel Hannibal’s eyes on him anymore. 

The bed smelled like stale sweat. He should have done more laundry, should have changed the sheets. Should have been better prepared for Hannibal’s return. Will turned on his side to stare resolutely at the wall as Hannibal loosened his tie. He heard the closet door open and the clatter and rustle of clothes and hangers.

“You could have told me, back in the State Hospital, that you were going to get him back.”

“My methods are not for the prying ears of the likes of Frederick Chilton and his ilk.”

Will nodded into his pillow.

“How did you escape? Why didn’t you do it before?”

“Although the timing does appear fortuitous, it was the fruition of a plan that was long in the making. I also had the good fortune to be under the supervision of man as persistently inept as Dr Chilton. ”

Will chewed his lip thoughtfully, considering his words. 

“Tell me about Abigail.”

“What would you like to know?”

“You sent her away; she didn’t die, you didn’t kill her. But, but you couldn’t control her anymore, she was too dangerous and you couldn’t keep clearing up her messes, she’d killed again and again, so you arranged for her to start a new life. And it worked, everyone thought she was dead. Except, except something happened. She felt abandoned, lost. She’d been alone but her life was going well except something happened, something,” Will hugged his pillow in frustration, he had thought he’d known Abigail so well, but he couldn’t slip inside her mind, couldn’t feel her thoughts, not when he was so surrounded by Hannibal, “Something happened and she needed your approval. She was so scared that you had sent her away because you didn’t love her, you were supposed to be her second father, but you sent her away and she needed to get your affection back. So she did the only thing she could, the only thing she thought would get your attention; she began killing, and killing in such a way as to make you sit up and make you take notice of her. She is the Ripper Copycat!”

“Indeed, dear Will. How do you imagine she felt when you returned, with a child that is so obviously mine?”

Will glared at the wall. Alex wasn’t _obviously_ Hannibal’s; no-one on Jack’s team had noticed, or, at least, no-one had said anything about it to him. 

“Devastated. Jealous. Before, we were a family held together by our actions, but forced apart by, by circumstance, still there for her though, if we had had a choice. But then she saw Alex, and suddenly she realised she had been left out; the cuckoo in the nest. Hannibal! What if she’d hurt him? She was so angry!”

Will hugged his pillow tighter. Of course he’d known Alex was in danger, but he realised now how close he had come to losing his boy completely. He shook slightly, as his mind supplied graphic images of what Abigail was capable of doing and he felt her anger at the boy that should have been her little brother. 

“It is a concern that need not trouble you again.”

Abigail was dead. Will found he couldn’t really be sorry. She had threatened Alex and Will had already mourned for her years ago. He had assumed for so long that she was already dead that her resurrection and immediate demise was surreal and he found he couldn’t even bring himself to grieve for the memory of the girl she had once been.

Behind him, the bed dipped and Will braced himself for whatever Hannibal intended to do to him. A strong, bare arm was slung around his waist and he was dragged backwards until he felt Hannibal’s chest against his back. He panicked and tried to push forwards, his hands clawing at the bed clothes. He managed to free his upper body, but his lower body swung back against Hannibal, his ass smacking against Hannibal’s groin. Something hot and hard poked at him and Will froze. The man was aroused and holding him down; surely Hannibal didn’t intend to force him?

He couldn’t breathe. All he could feel was the press of Hannibal’s flesh against him, Hannibal’s cock pressed against him. Hannibal the Cannibal was naked behind him; he wanted to laugh and laugh but he didn’t have the air and he couldn’t control his lungs. He gasped for breath, but Hannibal’s cock was right there, and it was all he could feel. 

“Breathe, Will. You are hyperventilating. Relax, nothing will happen that you do not wish.”

Next to his ear, he could hear and feel Hannibal’s deep, calming breaths. The hand on his chest rose and fell with the same steady rhythm and Will relaxed; allowed himself to breathe in time with Hannibal. In and out, again and again as the minutes ticked away.

He closed his eyes and focused on Hannibal’s breathing. It didn’t change. Hannibal was still awake; silent and unmoving. Will wondered when the last time that Hannibal had touched another person had been, and if the man even cared. 

In the dark, Hannibal was just a body pressed against him. He didn’t need to think about the man’s crimes. Instead, he remembered the one night that they had passed together. He had never been with a man before; he was barely experienced with women. It had been so good, more intimate than Will had thought possible. His hands and knees digging into Hannibal’s expensive sheets as he writhed while Hannibal’s thick fingers slowly opened him up. The slight grunt that Hannibal had let out as he pushed his cock inside Will; the knowledge that he, scruffy and gauche Will Graham, was affecting the calm equanimity of Hannibal Lector. The feel of Hannibal lips as he pressed hot, open mouthed kisses onto his shoulder. The slow slide of Hannibal’s cock inside him, slowly pushing and pushing until Will went mad with it, screaming and clawing at the bed beneath him. Finally, Hannibal had had mercy and listened to Will’s piteous pleas. He’d bitten into the back of Will’s neck and held him still while he pounded into him in such a frenzy that Will had lost his mind; until he’d come, his body spasming as he gasped at Hannibal to go faster, to give him more, please, more. 

Alex had been conceived that night. 

He’d never been too interested in sex before that. It was too intimate. He could avoid looking into people’s eyes, could stop himself from seeing too much; but he couldn’t have sex with someone and avoid them in the same way. He’d realised that Hannibal was the Ripper the next day and Hannibal had gutted him. By the time Will had got out of hospital Hannibal’s trial was underway and the scar on the back of his neck had healed.

He didn’t think he would be able to sleep, but with Hannibal surrounding him it was easier than normal. Hannibal’s body was warm and reassuringly strong around him. He was a comforting blanket that seemed to make the whole house feel safer; even Alex could be left alone, Will didn’t feel the need to constantly get up and check on him. 

_”Daddy?” the little fawn cried out, it was so lost and alone. He wanted to help it so much but, when he stroked his hand through its soft fur, the hair dissolved underneath his hand and in its place remained a trail of blood._

_“Why Daddy? Why didn’t you want me? I’ll be good, I promise!” Sasha called out. Hannibal shook his head._

_“No!” Hannibal yelled, angrier than Will had ever heard him._

_“I was never going to hurt him!” Will begged, confused. Why couldn’t Hannibal understand what he was say. A giant stag stood behind Hannibal and he knew, if he could just get its attention, he would be safe. The little fawn gamboled to his sire as the little deer began to sprout antlers of his own._

_“Please, I just need a towel! Just one towel! You have so many!” Will screamed again, desperate to get the deer, but Hannibal was barring his way._

_“No more,” Hannibal said sadly as a knife glittered in his hand._

_“But, please, even the - “ WIll begged, desperate for just a scrap of towel, but the knife was in Hannibal’s hand and it was coming towards him too quickly. It sliced into his throat, cutting through his vocal chords and silencing him. Will felt the blood drip down his neck and onto his chest; it kept spurting out. Blood and viscera, his intestines and his ovaries; spooling out of him._

“Hannibal,” he whimpered and woke up, alone. The sun was in his eyes and, for second, he panicked, not quite able to remember what had happened last night and what had just been a dream. Jumping up, he ran to Alex’s room. The bed was empty and the sheets tucked neatly into place. Had he dreamed Alex’s return? A hallucination brought on by stress? Or had Hannibal spirited him away in the night? Alex always made his own bed though, he was such a neat child. With a tendril of hope still remaining, Will ran downstairs, skidding to a stop in the kitchen doorway.

“Kuo tu vardu?” Hannibal stood at the kitchen table, the cutting board in front of him as he chopped vegetables. Alex sat on a chair, watching him as if he had been mesmerised. Hannibal raised an eyebrow and Alex took his finger from his mouth and answered gingerly.

“Mano vardas Sasha.”

Hannibal smiled at him and handed him a slice of yellow pepper. After giving it a doubtful look, Alex munched on it thoughtfully. Hannibal hummed at him with approval and laided a proprietary hand on his head, ruffling the boy’s dark curls. During Hannibal’s trial, Will had told himself that Hannibal was incapable of love; if he refused to believe that Hannibal could love then it was much easier to think that Hannibal had only ever manipulated him, that it had all been a game to him. But seeing him like this, with his son, Will wasn’t so sure. 

“Will,” Hannibal said suddenly, even though Will was sure the man hadn’t seen him. “We were just making breakfast. Would you like some coffee?”

“No!” Will spat angrily. He wouldn’t let Hannibal play out this domestic scene. The memory of his dream was too close and he remembered too clearly Hannibal’s expression as he sliced into his throat. Alex stopped chewing and looked up at him in surprise. 

“You always have coffee, Daddy,” Alex said softly, he could clearly sense that something was wrong and didn’t understand what it was. “Every morning!”

Hannibal smiled and, picking up a cup, brought it over to Will. He didn’t want to do anything to upset Alex but it was difficult to be so close to Hannibal. It had been easier last night, in the dark, when he could pretend the body pressed against him was just a fantasy version of Hannibal; one that would disappear in the morning. But the man before him was painfully solid as he gave Will a wolfish, toothy smile and pressed the hot cup into his hands. 

Will took a tentative sip. Like everything else Hannibal had ever given him, it tasted wonderful. Alex smiled and nodded before turning his attention back to the half eaten stick of pepper in his hand. 

“Now, Sasha, do you think the meat will be cooked?”

Alex swallowed quietly and thought about Hannibal’s question. 

“Maybe. We’ve been cooking for ages. Daddy makes breakfast much quicker.”

“Speed is not always a guarantee of quality,” Hannibal said with a smirk as he took the chopping board to the stove and tipped the sliced vegetables into a pan. They sizzled gently and Hannibal stirred them, his face set to be devoid of emotion but Will could almost feel the happiness radiating from him. 

“Will, perhaps you would like to dress before we have breakfast? It will be ready soon.”

He nodded, and, with a last backward glance at Alex, left the two of them alone. It felt strange to leave Alex alone with Hannibal. As much as he’d expected Hannibal would help him to find Alex, he hadn’t really trusted him. Abigail’s disappearance all those years ago had convinced him that Hannibal was capable of killing even someone he thought of as his own child. Now he knew the truth about what had happened to Abigail, he felt like a flood gate had opened; Hannibal could be relied upon to protect Alex and keep him secure. Nonetheless, he still threw on yesterday’s clothes and hurried back to the kitchen.

“It was already dead, but I poked it with a stick because Daddy said you shouldn’t touch dead things cos you might get sick. But it was so pretty, and its wing still worked. If it had been alive, it could of just flown away!” Alex grinned happily. Hannibal’s presence had brought out a side of the boy that Will hadn’t seen before. Alex didn’t usually get on with others, and preferred to keep to himself, only ever confiding in Will. Yet Hannibal had managed to get him to open up seemingly from the first time that they had met.

“Animals can be fascinating, but it's always important to remember not to get one’s hands dirty,” Hannibal agreed with a regal nod. Alex, having won Hannibal’s approval, grinned. “Ah, there you are, Will. Do join us. Breakfast is ready.”

“I helped,” Alex said proudly, as Hannibal put a plate of protein scramble down in front of Will, “I laid the table!”

Hannibal put two more food filled plates onto the table and sat down, watching Will expectantly. Alex’s plate was covered with eggs and vegetables, but nothing else. On Will’s plate chunks of meat peaked out from between perfectly cooked eggs. It smelled delicious and Will was uncomfortably reminded that he hadn’t eaten properly in days. He was starving hungry. 

Hannibal raised his fork, as if to start eating, but it was held in his hand like a weapon. Alex picked out a piece of yellow pepper from his plate and started eating, unconcerned by the sudden tension that had sprung up between the adults.

“What kind of meat is this?” 

Hannibal relaxed his hold on the fork and tutted quietly. 

“Nothing that you haven’t eaten before.” 

Will recoiled, he remembered his disgust when he’d first realised that Hannibal was eating his victims, that he was serving them to his guests; that Will himself had eaten human flesh at Hannibal’s table. But the disgust he felt now was like a distant memory of that, he knew he should be disgusted but he couldn’t seem to work up the energy to feel that way again. 

This was another test and Will was sure he knew the price of failure. Surely Hannibal wouldn’t risk Alex’s affection by killing Will in front of him? And, really, Hannibal was right, Will was already a cannibal; what difference did one more person make, especially when it would save him from Hannibal’s mind games. 

He speared a piece of meat with his fork and lifted it to his mouth, aware of Hannibal’s intense stare tracking every movement of his lips. The flavor of the meat hit his tongue, it was agonisingly delicious. He was too hungry for it not to taste good, even though he wished that it didn’t. He wished it tasted like cardboard and he could truly believe that he was doing this against his will. 

But sitting here, with Hannibal and Alex, his little family felt complete. His son was happy; Hannibal, the man who for years had never been far from his mind, was there. Will could feel the man’s satisfaction and pride in his kill and his cooking so clearly that he couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t what he himself was feeling. 

He knew that eating this would bring a smile to Hannibal’s eyes and the guilt of that, of his desire to please Hannibal, almost choked him. 

There were so many reasons to swallow this chunk of human flesh that it seemed difficult to remember why he shouldn’t. 

Will swallowed. 

“Although, it was only recently that I began to consider eating this particular meat. She is sweet, is she not, Will?”

Abigail.

He was eating Abigail. And he had enjoyed it, liked the taste of her.

Will ran, bolting to the bathroom and throwing himself down in front of the toilet just in time as he started to vomit. He couldn’t seem to stop, everytime he opened his mouth more seemed to come out until he was puking up slightly acidic water. 

His nostrils hurt with the acidic burn of vomit; a hand gently rubbed his back.

“Is Daddy sick?” Alex called out worriedly from somewhere behind him. 

“No,” Hannibal answered, his voice much closer, right behind Will. “No, he just ate someone that disagreed with him.”

“Someone? You’re funny, Papa. People don’t eat people,” Alex said with a slight giggle.

“Are you sure?” Hannibal asked lightly. 

“ _Don’t!_ ” Will gasped out, his throat painful and his voice raspy. The hand on his back slid up to cup onto the back of his neck and Will knew it was a warning. “Just, just, not yet.”

He turned his head in time to watch a smile reach Hannibal’s eyes. He hadn’t said no, he hadn’t chosen death. He would let his son become a cannibal in time, but just not yet. He hadn’t meant to say that. But he didn’t bother correcting himself. The dance between the two of them was so precarious and Will didn’t want to stop; couldn’t bring himself to reject Hannibal outright, like he knew he should.

Hannibal stood and fetched him a glass of water. Will accepted it gratefully and sipped the cool water. It felt so good against the pain in his throat. Hannibal was watching him drink so avidly that Will wondered if he had slipped something into the water and he wanted to make sure that Will drank it. He saw Hannibal’s gaze flick to his neck as he swallowed, his eyes tracking Will’s Adam’s apple and he realised it was desire. Hannibal still wanted him. Will almost laughed with the rush of power.

“Don’t do anything to Alex,” Will said, his voice husky despite the soothing water. Hannibal’s gaze flew up and Will saw him relax the grip on the mask that he permanently wore. Emotions flicked over his face and Will could see them clearly. Hannibal always kept such a tight rein on himself that to see him ponder, truly ponder and not just hesitate for the sake of his persona, was a novelty.

“I had not expected to desire this. He is more than I had imagined possible.”

“You don’t have to take him with you, he has a life here, well, in Florida. A home. You can’t just uproot him.”

Hannibal shook his head regretfully.

“How can I give up what is mine? No, dear Will, once something belongs to me, then it is mine forever more.”

Will stood and stepped backwards, feeling the wall hit his back as he moved away from Hannibal. The man didn’t move, didn’t chase after Will; he remained kneeling by the toilet.

“You expect me to just stand by and let you take him? Turn him into your Sasha?” Will cried out bitterly. Hannibal moved so swiftly, springing up, his tread so light, that Will barely registered that the man was suddenly right in front of him. Leaning into him and pressing him into the wall. Will panted, fear and desire, coiling in his belly. Of course Hannibal wouldn’t expect him to just let Alex go, he’d kill Will before he left. He’d feed Alex his father’s remains before fleeing the country, and Will had let him, hadn’t called Jack like he should have done; had been the one to persuade Jack not to even post guards outside his house.

“You gave yourself to me, Will. Did you think that I would forget that? Did you think that was no longer true, just because we were apart?” Hannibal’s breath tickled his neck and he could feel the man’s cock hardening, pressing against his belly.

“You tried to kill me!”

Hannibal grunted irritably. 

“Let me show you how much I regret that. I’m leaving soon, will you come with me?”

“You’ve never regretted anything in your life!”

“If I could relive that day, I would not repeat my actions. Is that not regret?” Hannibal whispered into his ear. Will’s hands lifted to Hannibal’s side. For a second, he thought Hannibal would stop him, pin his wrists, force him against the wall and kiss him. He didn’t. He allowed Will’s touch as he gently felt Hannibal’s sides and then his back. Despite his incarceration, Hannibal was just as muscled as Will remembered him. 

“Papa! Daddy! I finished! Is Daddy sick again, Papa?” Alex asked, running into the room. Will pushed Hannibal back, surprised when Hannibal allowed it and stepped back. 

“I’m fine. Finished doing what?” Will asked.

“Packing! Papa said we were going on a trip.”

Will blinked, frowning. Hannibal didn’t just want to take Alex away, he wanted Will too. He wanted Will alive. Would he kill Will if he refused? Almost definitely. Will felt his resolve weaken and desperately tried to cling to it.

“Your father needs a little room to breathe. Why don’t you show me what you have packed?” Hannibal said patiently to Alex and let himself be led away. Will heard their footsteps going up the stairs as he leaned back against the bathroom wall. He had to tell himself that Hannibal was a monster. Will might care for the man, but it would be wrong to love him, wrong to want a family and a home and all the other things that came so naturally to everybody else.

But then, Will had killed; he’d eaten human flesh. Was he so bound by his principles, by societies rules, that he could not allow himself this piece of happiness? Such rules seemed less meaningful to him now, even the initial horror of cannibalism had lost its potency; something he should pretend to care about in polite company, despite not really seeing the harm in it. No, it was the killing itself he couldn’t forgive.

He stumbled from the room and went to sit on his couch. Above him, he could hear Alex’s high voice telling Hannibal about the different things in his bedroom. His youthful exuberance filtered through, even though Will couldn’t make out any words. 

He needed to think. Hannibal’s plan seemed so simple, the life he offered so perfect. But Will just couldn’t accept it. It was simply too wrong. His mind churned, arguments and emotions chasing each other until he felt even more drained and alone. Hannibal and Alex came back downstairs, but went to the kitchen, leaving Will by himself.

His cell phone buzzed in his pocket. Pulling it out, he saw that it was Alana trying to reach him.


	3. Chapter 3

Will answered the phone in a daze, accepting the call from Alana before he was even really aware of what he was doing. He paused, not lifting the phone to his ear. Would Hannibal think this was Will’s attempt at turning him in? The last time Hannibal had suspected that Will might threaten his freedom, he’d nearly killed him. He didn’t want to startle Hannibal as he had when he’d realised who the Chesapeake Ripper really was. This time, Will would be more cautious. He stood up, glancing round to peek into the kitchen where Hannibal and Alex were. Hannibal’s shoulders were stiff, even though there was no way he could know who had phoned Will. His body language screamed of an attempt at self-control, but Will could see through it. 

“Will! Oh, thank God you’re alright!” Alana panicky voice shrieked at him. He pressed the phone to his ear. He’d been existing in a state of limbo since Hannibal had arrived, not really acknowledging how close to the precipice he was. Now he would have to talk Alana and whatever happened next would determine how he spent the rest of his life, however short that might be.

“Alana? Alana! Calm down! I’m fine!” Will looked into the kitchen and saw Hannibal preparing something for their lunch. There was a large knife in his hand as he delicately filleted a fish that he must have found in Will’s freezer. His shoulders were tense, but the knife was still gently and methodically slicing into the fish; he worked with a practised ease. Sitting at the kitchen table, his little legs swinging through the air, sat Alex as he read to Hannibal, sounding out each word carefully from his book. 

If he wanted to, he could tell Alana that Hannibal was here, he could get help. If he wanted to. 

Alex would probably be dead before he’d even finished saying Hannibal’s name. No, Alex would survive but with only one father left alive. 

“Chilton’s gone missing, they’re saying Hannibal got him. I really want you to come into protective custody. Jack could send a squad car, you wouldn’t have to do anything, just grab a few clothes...”

Will could hear her desperation and fear but he couldn’t understand what she was feeling. It was too crude, almost repulsive. He stepped into the kitchen and walked towards Hannibal. Finally, the man looked up from the fish, as if Will was disturbing him, as if he wasn’t straining to hear every word whilst appearing nonchalant. Will twisted his lips into a knowing grin.

“Alana, I told you, I’m fine.”

“I’m just worried,” she said with a sigh, “Its been so good to see you again, and to meet Alex. I’ve missed you and I just don’t want to see anything bad happen to you.”

Hannibal peeled back the flesh of the fish and exposed the bones beneath. Will raised an eyebrow, it had been beautifully cut.

“I’ve been working with Jack more, since you went away, and I just worry that he has too much of an affect on you. Jack wants Lecter’s escape to be an isolated incident, and Alex’s abduction, because that fits in with his view of the Ripper Copycat. But I don’t think that’s necessarily wise. I think he’s losing his perspective. Alex’s return wasn’t properly investigated, I’ve been consulting for the FBI long enough to recognise that! All I’m saying is that you should take Lecter’s escape more seriously.”

“Alana,” Will hesitated, this was the moment it all came down too. Hannibal could be everything to him, they could be a family and be happy. Or he could chose to tell Alana the truth. He wouldn’t survive long, and even if he did he would be cast back, alone and adrift in his own mind. The knife was still balanced lightly in Hannibal’s hand and Will watched as the blade glinted in the sunlight streaming through the kitchen window. 

“Alana,” he repeated more firmly. He put his hand on Hannibal’s chest, touching him willingly for the first time in years. He could feel Hannibal’s strong heart beat, steady and comforting, under his hand. Everything had been so confused and Will was so exhausted, so tired of feeling conflicted. Hannibal had been his lifeline before, and now he was offering to be so again. Will remembered what living inside the warm comfort of Hannibal’s security felt like and he yearned for that steady reassurance again. “Nothing bad is going to happen. Alex is here and he’s doing great. There’s nothing to worry about. I know what Jack’s like, but, you know, he is actually a pretty good agent. That’s why he’s the boss. He thinks I’m safe, I think I’m safe, let’s just leave it at that, alright?”

Alana let out a frustrated breath.

“Will -” she began again.

“I’m sorry, Alana. I’ve gotta go, Alex is trying to read to me. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Will hung up, putting his cell phone down on the kitchen counter. Hannibal glanced at it expressionlessly. 

Will bit his lip and glanced at the kitchen floor before looking up to see that Alex was watching the two them with interest. 

“Would you have…” Will trailed off, unsure what he wanted to ask Hannibal; if he really wanted to know what Hannibal would have done if he’d said anything to Alana. He doubted he needed to ask anyway, Hannibal might not have vocalised a threat against Will but he really didn’t have to. 

Hannibal put the knife down and went to the sink to wash his hands. Each movement was so exact and so graceful, the man’s formidable self-control stopping him from reacting to what Will had just done until he had washed the fish from his hands. Will felt lighter already, all his previous confusion seeping away. He understood Hannibal in a way that seemed impossible with anyone else. 

Will leaned back against the counter, his hands fidgeting as he became oddly nervous. He’d just agreed to go on the run with a serial killer and their young son. Objectively, it seemed like the wrong thing to do, but the decision was so obvious when it came down to it. 

Hannibal stood next to him, their shoulders bumped together as they both looked at Alex. One of Hannibal’s hands caught up both of Will’s fidgeting hands and stilled them.

“Daddy? Papa? Am I done?” Alex asked. He’d stopped reading when Will had come into the kitchen and was watching the two of them now with eager eyes. 

“For the moment, Sasha.”

Alex quirked his lips in annoyance and stopped swing his legs as he turned his attention back to the book he was trying to read. Hannibal seemed too preoccupied savouring the moment to mind. His large hand felt warm as it held Will’s fingers in place.

“So, um, when are we leaving? Where are we going?”

“Italy. We shall leave tonight. Unfortunately there were some problems with the paperwork,” Hannibal gave him a reproving glance, ”I only recently became aware that three of us would need documentation. Fortunately, I have everything we need now.”

“I should pack.”

“That is unnecessary, you won’t need anything.”

“Nothing?”

Hannibal squeezed his hand and Will wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a reassurance. 

“There’s nothing here for you.”

Will chewed his lip thoughtfully. He’d thought the last time he’d left Wolf Trap, when he’d moved to Florida, that he would be starting a new life. But it hadn’t been possible. He’d had too much of Hannibal inside him; the man’s unborn child in his belly and the man’s thoughts in his head. He’d thought, back then, that he’d never be able to work for the FBI again. That he would never see through another serial killer’s eyes again, not while Hannibal was lodged in his mind. 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Hannibal gave a small, approving smile; he was so proud of Will. In the past Will might have thought it was condescending, but now he was just happy to make the man proud of him. 

Later, as Hannibal bundled Alex into Will’s beat up old car, Will locked his front door for what he knew would be the last time ever. He had thought that it would be a sad moment but, as the key clicked in the lock, it felt anticlimactic. There was only relief as he slipped the key under the doormat. His life had been so complicated, so constantly fraught, while he lived in this house, and now he was stepping away from all that.

Hannibal was sitting in the driver’s seat of the car, watching him as he walked away from the house. Will had the momentary urge to run into the woods. But, of course, that was ridiculous; he’d already made his decision to accompany Hannibal. He got into his car and Hannibal put a large, blunt figured hand on top of his thigh. 

“Sasha and I were just discussing our journey.”

Will touched the hand that was bearing down on him. He couldn’t help but wonder at the things that hand had done. Hannibal’s touch now was almost a caress, a sign of affection; yet this hand must look the same when it killed someone, when it stuck a knife in someone’s throat, when it gouged into someone and ripped the life from Hannibal’s victims. Will found he was almost curious to see that, to see if Hannibal looked the same now as when he killed. 

Hannibal lifted his hand as they drove away.

“We will be traveling as the Erikssons. Sasha and you will use your own first names, my name is Victor Eriksson.”

“Daddy says its wrong to lie,” Alex said guiltily from the back seat. Already he was shy of contradicting anything that Hannibal said.

“Your father is correct. It is very wrong to lie to your family, but the people we will lying to today are strangers and they don’t count.”

“Like...” Alex struggled. Will turned in his seat to see his son frowning at the back of Hannibal’s head. “Like before, when you said that families have to do things in private. So I had to lie about how I got home from the bad lady’s house.”

“Exactly.”

“If we’re a family,” Alex began again, “Why didn’t you live with us before?”

Will felt the car slowing down and turned to see Hannibal's blank face was tightly controlled as the man struggled not to react to his son's words. Will had never told Alex anything about his other father and Alex was too young to ask such questions.

“Because Hank said that it was my fault that you left and then Hank’s mom told him not to be rude, but after they thought I’d gone, I stayed in the dunes, and I heard Hank’s mom say that it was because men weren’t supposed to have babies with other men. She said I was a devil-child because my eyes aren’t a normal color and that my other father saw that and left. But that was a lie because you have the same color eyes as me. So why did you leave?”

Hannibal pulled the car over and turned round to look Alex in the eye. 

“I never chose to leave you or your father. I regret that I have been away for so much of your life but I promise that I will never leave you again, Sasha.”

Alex gave a wide-eyed nod, clearly surprised that his words had provoked such a reaction. 

“Very well.” Hannibal turned back around and started the car, “Now tell me, who is this Hank?”

Alex was still watching Hannibal with a puzzled expression so Will jumped in. He knew that Alex didn’t get on with their neighbors but this was the first time he’d heard anything like this.

“He’s a boy who lives near us.”

“He lives two houses along the beach,” Alex added. Will leaned back and rubbed Alex’s knee. It was partly meant to soothe him, and partly to reassure himself that Alex was alright. It was such an awful thing for a child to have to hear, and Will had always been so proud that the two of them managed so well. He thought he’d been doing a good job as a single dad. 

Hannibal’s face was still tight, as if for once he was the struggle to keep control of himself was too much; Alex just turned to watch the passing scenery in silence. He wasn’t frowning anymore but sometimes Alex could be difficult for even Will read. So far the boy seemed content as long as Hannibal was nearby and, despite the uneasy conversation, that still seemed to be holding true. 

Fleeing the country was far easier than Will had imagined it would be. Their fake passports weren’t questioned and they passed through security more easily than Will ever had before. He supposed it was Hannibal’s air of casual confidence. Will marvelled that he had ever thought Hannibal was incapable of violence, that he had thought him a gentle soul. Now he saw a caged animal that was ready to pounce and destroy at the slightest provocation. Airport security waved them through without doing anything more than asking them to step through a metal detector. It amazed Will that these guards couldn’t see what was so obvious to him now, that they thought Hannibal looked like a normal man. 

Will felt he should be keeping his head down and trying to be inconspicuous, but Hannibal didn’t seem concerned. He held his head high, walking slowly enough that Alex could keep up with him. The boy seemed reluctant to let go of Hannibal’s hand. Will, used to walking at Alex’s slow pace, trailed after the two of them. 

The first class departure lounge was deserted. Will looked around curiously, allowing himself to relax as he sunk into his seat. A few security guards walked aimlessly around the lounge, clearly not there to check up on them. 

Getting through the airport had been so much easier than Will had imagined, he’d thought there would be one last chance to go back on this. One last chance to change his mind. He watched the security guards as the men walked past, chatting in low voices. Perhaps he’d made his choice long ago, that day in Jack Crawford’s office when he’d first been introduced to Hannibal. It seemed so distant now; in those days he had felt a constant thrum of fear as his imagination slowly drove him insane. Hannibal’s steady presence in his life had dispelled all that, had made him sane. No matter what, he didn’t want to go back to being the man he’d been before he’d met Hannibal. The only thing to do now was wait for their flight. 

Opposite him, Hannibal leaned back in his chair, Alex tucked up under his arm. 

“Have you heard the story of Egle, Queen of the Serpents?” Hannibal asked, his accent more pronounced than usual and his voice hushed as if he intended to lull Alex to sleep. The little boy shook his head and gazed up at Hannibal, seemingly over-awed by his new father. 

“Then I shall tell you,” Hannibal began, his fingers twisting around one of Alex’s long curls. “Long ago, in the country where I was born, there lived a beautiful women who had nine brothers. One day she went swimming in the lake and, as she pulled on her clothes afterwards, she found a snake. It had snuck into her shirt and fallen asleep. She screamed when she saw it, because she knew that with one bite it could kill her. But the snake spoke and it promised to let her live, if she would agree to marry him. Reluctantly the girl agreed, and promised to marry the snake in a week’s time.

“Now, when she returned to her brothers and told them what had happened, they were very upset and they planned to trick the snake and save Egle from her promise, but, as the week drew to a close, nothing had worked and Egle was carried off by a swarm of snakes to meet her new husband. They took her to the forest, where she met a handsome man who told her that he was the one that she had promised to marry, but that she had only seen his snake form. 

“He was the King of all the snakes and Egle fell in love with him. He took her to live at the bottom of a lake, where they made a home together and Egle had four beautiful children.”

A loud voice crackled over the PA, the harsh noise seemed to break the spell that the gentle cadence of Hannibal’s voice had lulled him into, distracting him from what was going on around him. Will looked around, almost sad to have been so rudely interrupted

“And, unfortunately, you will have to wait to hear the rest of Egle’s story,” Hannibal stood and helped Alex out of his chair, “We have an airplane to board.”

The flight itself was long and tedious. Will slept fitfully, sometimes sleeping more deeply than he had in years and then twitching awake feeling rejuvenated, yet still falling back to sleep minutes later. His sleep was dreamless and, if it were possible, he might have thought that Hannibal had drugged him, but he’d had neither the opportunity nor, Will thought wryly, the need. 

The hum of the airplane engines kept Alex awake, but each time Will woke up Hannibal was taking care of him. It was rather nice to not be a single parent for a change, to leave Hannibal to make sure that Alex was alright and suitable entertained. Will watched them through sleepy eyes; Alex stared enthralled at a kid’s TV show while Hannibal watched both the program and Alex’s reaction to it. Will could almost hear him wondering if this was something he wanted his child exposed to and making mental plans for Alex’s education. Hannibal would mould Alex, just as he had moulded Will. He shrugged and pulled his blanket tighter around him; how could that be a bad thing, when he was happier now than he had been in years?

It was dark when they landed. They left the plane and exited straight into the cold, night air. It was only a short walk to the terminal, but Hannibal carried Alex. Will was glad, he doubted he would be able to; he felt cold and stretched thin, as if he hadn’t eaten or slept in days. The airport was tiny and Alex, usually so even tempered, was tired and grumpy. He fidgeted in Hannibal’s arms as they stood in line to show their passports. Even Hannibal was starting to show the strain; he put Alex down as soon as they had passed through customs. 

“Where now?” Will asked, his tone more confrontational than he had intended. 

“If you’d excuse me, we need to rent a car. I hope you don’t mind waiting here. Sasha please stay with your Daddy.”

Alex frowned angrily and sighed loudly, but took Will’s hand as they stood and waited. The boy had barely slept on the flight and his tiredness and bad mood were becoming more obvious as he gave another exaggerated sigh. Will hoped they would be able to rest soon. 

Despite the emptiness of the airport, a young man was standing close to them as he waited to collect his luggage from the carousel. Will eyed him warily and squeezed Alex’s hand. His son kept his eyes on Hannibal as he stood in front of the car rental kiosk and spoke to the woman behind the desk in fluent Italian. 

Finally, the young man picked up his luggage but as he turned to leave he almost bumped into Will. 

“ _Frocio,_ ” the man sneered and, as he passed he swung his bag, so that it caught Alex on the head making the little boy scream in pain. The man’s eyes bugged out in surprise and Will knew that it had been an accident. 

“What the hell?” Will yelled at the stranger, but the man had paled and was backing away without even apologising. Alex gulped back a breath and let out a muffled scream, large tears welled up in his eyes. Will knelt down and opened his arms to hug Alex, trying to avert the tantrum that appeared to be on its way.

Alex tilted his head back and his tears began streaming down his face, letting out a plaintive shriek. Hannibal was beside them almost instantly, kneeling down to see Alex’s head. He tried to pull Alex gently away from Will.

“Let me see if you are injured,” Hannibal said, his voice quiet and soothing. The little boy pushed him away with small fists.

“NO!” Alex’s voice was piecing, “I want Daddy! Hurts! Not Papa! Daddy!” 

Hannibal’s face remained impassive but Will could feel the anger rolling off him. He clutched Alex to him a little tighter. He was, suddenly and surprisingly, unsure about Hannibal; he was petrified that Hannibal would decide Alex had been rude and he had no idea how Hannibal would react to that. 

“Excuse me,” Hannibal stood swiftly and walked away. 

“It’s ok, it’s ok, I know it hurts but it’s going to get better,” Will said softly, trying to comfort Alex despite his own fear. He couldn’t see where Hannibal had gone and he realised that he was alone in a strange country with nothing but a fake passport. Alex quietened down slightly and let Will hug him. “Come on, let’s try and find your Papa.”

“No, I want to go home!” Alex yelled, stomping his feet and pushing Will away.

“Alex, we’ve got a new home now. We’re not going back to our old home.”

Alex dissolved into fresh sobs and let Will pick him up, burying his head in his father’s neck. Hannibal was coming towards them quickly, the keys to a rental car in his hand. But, for the first time ever, Will was truly afraid of him. Hannibal said nothing, but took Will’s elbow and guided them outside and into the waiting car.

Hannibal hunted the rude and Alex had just been rude. 

Alex sat on his lap in the backseat, he’d stopped crying but his eyes were swollen and his face lined with the red marks left by tears. Will wiped the child’s eyes with his finger, but Alex turned his face away before he could finish. He held his back rigid and didn’t lean back against his father.They travelled on through the night in uncomfortable silence. 

Twenty minutes into the drive, Alex finally slumped back onto Will and he knew the boy was asleep. Will maneuvered around him, holding him in place with one arm, but leaning forward so that could say his piece to Hannibal.

“Well, is that it? He’s a child and sometimes he gets upset, he’s rude. Are you going to… Do something now?” Will hissed.

“He is a child, Will. An injured, tired child.”

Will didn’t answer, instead watching Hannibal’s profile as he drove. Although it was dark inside the car, the headlights of the oncoming cars would light up his face. As each car passed, strange shadows danced across Hannibal’s face. 

“I realise we have been apart for some time and it is only natural that there will be a period of readjustment, but there is no need to fear me, Will. Certainly, there is no need for you to fear for Sasha.”

Will grunted and turned to stare out of the window. It was too dark to see the Italian countryside; he had vague idea that they were driving past empty fields. It was slightly disappointing, he’d been expecting Italy to look more lush. 

“What does frocio mean?”

Hannibal’s figures curled around the steering wheel. It wouldn’t have looked like an expression of anger on anyone else, but Will knew better. 

“It is a homophobic slur. Is that what the man who hit Sasha said to you?”

“It was an accident. I mean, I thought it was. But, yeah, yeah, that’s what he said.”

Will had never really experienced homophobia before. He’d never thought of himself as gay before Hannibal, and even afterwards no-one had ever said anything to him. Strangers in the street would never give him odd looks. It had never been an issue. Except, it had been, he just hadn’t been aware of it. His neighbors had said things in front of Alex, how many other people had said things to Alex? Was that why the boy was so isolated?

Finally, they arrived in a city and Hannibal pulled the car over and got out without turning off the engine. Will stayed in the car and watched as Hannibal walked in front of the car and unlocked a large gate by the light of the car’s headlights. The gates were solid metal and there was high wall on either side of it so, when the gates swung back to reveal a house, Will was taken by surprise. He realised he shouldn’t have been. Hannibal must have been planning this for years, knowing that one day he might get caught and would have to flee. This house obviously belonged to him, and he probably had many more all over the world. 

Hannibal got back into the car and drove them up the small driveway. 

“I haven’t been here in many years, but I think, in time, we will all grow to call this place home.”

Will rested his cheek on Alex’s head and looked at the building that was to be their new home. It looked expensive; as ostentatious as Hannibal was. Will had followed his heart and because of that his son would grow up with two fathers. Alex would get more attention, more opportunities and would probably have a better life, yet he couldn’t stop the nagging guilt that he had done Alex a disservice by letting this happen, by running away with Hannibal.

Will got out of the car, clutching his sleeping child to him. He’d forgotten how cold the night air was, but Hannibal was already getting out of the car and going to unlock the front door. Will hurried after him. 

The front door swung open and Will walked into the darkness. The door closed behind him and for a second Will stood, completely blind; he felt like he’d walked into a mausoleum, that he’d just been sealed in and he would never get out again. Then the lights flickered on and Will saw it was just a house, slightly bare and with a rather neglected feel to it, but, nevertheless, just a house. 

“Why isn’t it cold in here?”

Hannibal was watching him so intensely, as if he was expecting something, waiting for Will to do something. 

“There is a local woman who comes round once a week to make sure everything is in order. I told her we would be arriving tonight.”

“You, you phoned ahead? Was that wise?”

Hannibal smiled in that way meant approval, but on anyone else would have meant something else. Will had forgotten what other people used that smile for. It was only interesting when Hannibal used it.

“We are in no danger of being caught by the authorities.”

Will frowned, awkward and embarrassed. His glasses were askew, but with Alex in his arms he couldn’t fix them. 

“Alex needs a bed.”

“The master bedroom is two flights up, the second door on the left. Would you prefer if I took him?”

Hannibal stepped closer as he asked, his eagerness to be close to his son, to be able to care for Alex breaking him from his usual habit of economy of motion. It was endearing, but Will shook his head and started up the stairs without answering him. 

He found the bedroom easily and, after turning a light on, lay Alex on the bed as the boy began to stir. His eyes were puffy, but he blinked them open and gave a small yawn.

“My head hurts,” Alex moaned, although the bump on his forehead had faded and was no longer red. He sat up slowly on the bed and looked around. 

“I know, Alex, but - “

“Sasha!” Alex cried querulously, his voice louder than Will had been expecting, “Papa calls me Sasha!”

“Alright, Sasha,” Will said wearily, “Lie back and close your eyes, it’ll make your head feel better.”

Alex let himself be coaxed, and lay back on the large bed. Will took off his son’s shoes and tucked them under the bed. Standing up, he saw that Alex was already asleep again and Will didn’t want to leave him alone in this strange house. He lay down next to Alex and pulled the covers over them both. 

_He was in the forest again, but he was alone. It was dark and he couldn’t see anything through the dense trees. The silence was profound and, although he could see the steam of his breath in the cold night air, he couldn’t even hear his own breathing. He didn’t like it. He’d grown so used to seeing the stag or the fawn in his dreams that he’d forgotten how empty the forest was without them. How foreboding the forest became when he had to navigate it alone._

_“Hello? Is there anyone there?"_

_There was no answer. He hadn’t been expecting one, but it was a disappointment nonetheless._

_He walked forward, setting out through the trees. The bare trunks looked grey in the darkness. Eventually, if he walked in one direction, then he would find his way out of the forest. He must._

_It seemed like he’d been walking for hours. The stillness was oppressive. There was no sound of birds in the trees. Even his feet hit the ground silently._

_There was a whimper from up ahead. The silence made the noise seem loud and Will ran towards it with excitement and apprehension._

_There was a fawn, hiding at the base of a tree. When it saw Will, it flinched away but it did not try to run. It was very young, and it’s gangly legs were folded up under it as it sat awkwardly._

_“It’s ok, it’s ok. I’m not going to hurt you,” Will tried to make his voice soothing as he slowly approached the animal. There was a noise behind him. Something else was in the forest with them. There was something in the trees and he knew that if the thing found them, it would kill them. Will ran to the fawn and huddled next to it, determined to protect it no matter what threatened it. The fawn was so scared and Will wanted, more than anything, to protect it._

_“Go away! Leave us alone!” Will yelled, although he still wasn’t sure what was out there. Whatever was hunting them was faceless and formless. It was getting nearer. Soon, Will would be able to see it._

_“Leave us alone!”_

__

Will woke with Hannibal’s arms around him, gently shaking him awake. Hannibal was all around him and it was terrible. He let out a startled scream.

“You were having a nightmare, Will. Shh. You’re safe now.”

_”Shh. Don’t move. You’re in shock now.”_

He was still half-asleep and he wasn’t sure where his dream ended and where reality began. He was with Hannibal, but he’d gone to sleep next to Alex. He wasn’t sure if Hannibal was trying to calm him or kill him again. He struggled harder, trying to get away from the circle of Hannibal’s embrace. 

“Calm down, Will. It was just a dream.”

_”Don’t resist, it’s so gentle, like slipping into a warm bath.”_

“You’re going to kill me,” Will yelled. Hannibal stilled and then released him. Will backed away quickly, suddenly wide awake and full of energy. “You’re going to kill me,” he repeated, although now that he was fully awake and the words seemed odd and rather crude. He was in Italy, with Hannibal. His mind had tricked him and he’d thought he was back in Baltimore, with Hannibal holding him close as he stabbed a knife into his belly. It was not a memory that he often recalled, and never as vividly as it had felt just then. He gulped down a steadying breath, adrenalin pounded through his veins and his fingertips shook slightly. 

“You were dreaming. Tell me, do you still dream of the stag?”

Will pulled the covers back over him, he was cold even though he still hadn’t taken off the clothes that he’d been wearing all day. He did not want to deal with Hannibal psychoanalysing him. The man was already too much in his head, he didn’t want him playing around with his mind any more than that. Hannibal got off the bed and started removing his clothes, putting each garment away carefully in an empty closet. 

“Where’s Alex?”

“He is in bed, in his own room.”

Will licked his lips, trying to shake off the last remnants of fear from his dream. Hannibal must have carried Alex next door. It was rather touching. Hannibal was making a surprising good father; Will’s own father had never shown as much as interest or patience in him as Hannibal was showing Alex. 

“You’re very good with him. Sometimes, he’s so quiet…” Will cut himself off. His own father had never understood his empathy, he’d always been made to feel like there was something wrong with him. He didn’t want Alex to feel that way, didn’t want him to feel his own father was judging him, thinking him not quite good enough, as Will had. Alex was his own person and Will would always love him; something about Hannibal had allowed Alex to open up to the man and Will was almost ashamed that he felt so relieved about that. 

“You should have told me about him before,” Hannibal said lightly, but Will felt the chill in his words, “But I understand your hesitation.”

Will looked up, surprised, and found that Hannibal was smiling at him. 

“You were so beautiful in your desolation when you came to see me. You shed your tears so earnestly. Time to get undressed, Will.”


	4. Chapter 4

Will opened his mouth to protest, he was so warm wearing his clothes and tucked under the covers, he didn’t want to get up into the cold. His eyes were still heavy and sleep would come to him so easily, if Hannibal would just be quiet. 

“It’s too cold, I’m just going to sleep like this,” his voice sounded petulant to his own ears, he knew he was being rude and abrasive. He could almost hear Hannibal thinking just that, even though he had turned his face away from the man. Will fidgeted with the duvet cover instead of looking up. Surely Hannibal was going to acknowledge his act of defiance? Still, Will didn’t look up. He shivered slightly, sleeping in his clothes was making him uncomfortable but his earlier confusion still clung to him. 

Waking up in Hannibal’s embrace had felt far too similar to the way that Hannibal had held onto him as he’d slipped a knife into his belly and tried to sooth Will even as he killed him. Hannibal hadn’t been trying to kill him just now, but the memory of his past attempt was painfully vivid. Behind him, he could hear the rustle of cloth as Hannibal took off his own clothes. 

“You’d be more comfortable if you got undressed.”

Will lay still and closed his eyes, half hoping that that would block out the sound of Hannibal’s voice. 

“It’s been a long day, and you would sleep more restfully if you took off the clothes you traveled in.”

Will scrunched his eyes shut but Hannibal’s voice droned on. He wasn’t going to be silent until Will did what he wanted. Without getting up, or even moving the sheet, Will pulled off his sweater and threw it on the floor next to the bed. Next, he began undoing his shirt buttons. He couldn’t hear any noise coming from behind him. Hannibal was finally silent. He couldn’t even hear clothes being put away. Hannibal might be watching him as he squirmed awkwardly beneath the duvet. 

Will only stopped stripping when he was done to his boxers. 

He pushed the last of his clothes off the bed. The last, lone sock had barely hit the floor when Will felt the bed behind him dip. Hannibal was climbing into bed behind him. 

They had shared a bed last night, but this seemed different. Last night he’d been in Wolf Trap, in his own bed. But more than that, last night he’d been in an emotional limbo; shell shocked and torn between despair at the loss of Alex and his sudden return. Hannibal’s arrival and all that entailed seemed almost surreal now that Will thought about the events of the last thirty-six hours. 

The duvet pulled taut over his body as Hannibal got under the covers. Will stayed still, his back to Hannibal. He didn’t even move when he felt Hannibal’s warm chest against his back. A large hand curled around him and settled on his abdomen. If the hand had gone much lower then Hannibal would have been able to feel the scars on his stomach. Will couldn’t blame him for not wanting to touch them, the scars were not pretty. He hated having to look at them, but he’d almost hoped that Hannibal wouldn’t care about them. That, perhaps, he might even find them attractive because he was the one responsible for them. 

Hannibal’s chest hair tickled his back as Will let himself lean against hard muscles. It felt too good to lie like this. The warmth and the comfort of not being alone was addictive.

“Did you take a lover while we were apart, Will?”

Will’s breath stuttered, a very small part of him was afraid. Afraid of the possessiveness and jealousy that he could hear in Hannibal’s question. But mostly, shamefully, he found it amusing. It was ridiculous to think that he would have slept with anyone else. Quite aside from being a scarred, slightly insane single parent, Will had always known that no-one else would compare with Hannibal. 

The dark part of his mind that he didn’t like to think about, the part that understood how Hannibal thought, stopped him from answering straight away. Hannibal’s question had revealed so much about him and Will was curious to see how far he could push him. 

“A lover?”

Hannibal didn’t answer, instead pushing his hips forward and into Will. A hard cock pressed against the cleft of his ass, making Will gasp loudly. He tried to stifle the noise. He hoped Hannibal hadn’t heard him, or if he had, that he thought it was nerves. Hoped that Hannibal didn’t know that he was remembering what it felt like to have that thick cock inside him, to have any part of Hannibal inside him. His hips wriggled experimentally. 

He froze, suddenly remembering himself. He was teasing _Hannibal,_ a man who had murdered countless people just because they were slightly rude to him. 

“No. No, there was no-one else.”

Hannibal moved away from him, drawing back and Will had the strangest sense that Hannibal had liked being teased. Had preferred Will when he teased him rather than being scared of him. That Hannibal liked him best when they were behaving as equals. 

Hannibal’s arm began to slip away, threatening to leave Will all alone on his side of the bed. Without hesitating, Will grabbed onto Hannibal’s hand and held him in place. He didn’t want to lose that comforting pressure that was holding him together. In the years they’d been apart, Will had forgotten what it was like to have another adult in his life. That comforting sense of familiarity, of spending time with someone who would look after him. Now, lying next to Hannibal, feeling his heavy arm across him, he remembered that feeling, of finally belonging somewhere; a sense of home in Hannibal’s arms that he’d never experienced elsewhere, even when he’d been living inside his own house. He remembered how good it had felt back before he knew who Hannibal was; what Hannibal was. It was a far more vivid memory than all the remembered horror of learning about Hannibal’s crimes. 

Hannibal didn’t make any comment about Will touching him. His steady, reliable breaths tickled the hair by Will’s ear. After a few seconds, in which Hannibal remained still and unmoving, Will closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

_The forest was bright. It was daytime and the sun shone. There had to be other animals in the forest, but it was silent._

_He was kneeling on the forest floor, one arm wrapped around the fawn. The young deer was terrified, but he could tell that his touch was soothing it. They were in a clearing and they were safe. For now. Beyond the clearing was danger, and it was getting closer._

_He didn’t know how he could tell it was getting closer, there was no noise, but he knew._

_Nothing stirred but he knew he was being watched. He threw up his hand as if to scare away whatever was watching them. His fist was clenched and when he opened his hand something fell to the ground. It was a single black feather._

_He hadn’t known the feather was there, but now he saw it, he knew this was a weapon he could use against the strange, invisible foe that was stalking him and his fawn._

Will woke slowly. The last traces of his dream slipping away from him and leaving him feeling hopeful, whereas usually he woke up feeling drained and apprehensive. 

Hannibal’s side of the bed was cold and Will felt free to spread himself out and take up more of the bed. It was surprisingly comfortable. He was no expert on expensive things, but the sheets were softer than any he’d ever felt before, the pillows and duvet were stuffed with down and were luxuriously heavy as they cocooned him. He wished he could stay in bed longer, he wanted to sleep longer in this bed where he had passed such a remarkably comfortable night. But he knew he couldn’t. He had to investigate his new surroundings. 

Getting up, he went over to the large windows and flung them open to let in the bright morning sunshine. A few pigeons, who must have been sitting on the roof just above the great windows, scattered, cooing and flapping their wings noisily as Will gazed out across the city. The morning sky was entirely blue and tiled roofed tops gleamed in shades of brown and red. It was so different from anywhere else he’d ever been, it might as well be an alien landscape and yet there was a beauty to it that Will could appreciate. Despite the brightness, it was still cold and Will shivered; his feet were bare on the stone tiles that were still chilled from the coldness of the night. It felt cold now, but soon it warm up and it would be a beautiful day. 

Will wandered around the house, peering into rooms. He found Alex’s bedroom, but didn’t wake the boy. Alex had been so tired yesterday that he needed all the sleep he could get. Hannibal obviously hadn’t planned on having children to stay here; Alex rested on a large bed, his small body dwarfed by the size of the bed.

Most of the rooms Will looked into seemed like no-one had been in them for years. Items of furniture were covered with heavy, white cloth although the place seemed clean and dust free. It made Will slightly nervous, as if he was slightly dirty and the furniture itself was too precious for him to touch. 

He couldn’t find Hannibal, but the door to the basement was locked, so he suspected he was down there. Will thought about knocking on the basement door anyway, and seeing if Hannibal would come up to see him, but he wasn’t sure what he would say to the man. Instead, he explored the house more. This time, when he went into each room, he pulled the dust covers off everything, revealing beautifully polished tables, leather sofas, sculptures, and paintings on the wall. He even found a figurine of a large bronze stag. Will burst out laughing when he saw it. It was an immensely freeing feeling, although he wasn’t sure what was so funny. 

He only stopped laughing when he heard the front door slam shut and he panicked. Had they been tracked down already? What would happen to Alex if he was arrested? Will picked up a metal sculpture and, balancing it in his hand carefully so that he could use it as a weapon if necessary, went to see who had just entered his home. 

In the hallway, surrounded by shopping bags, was Hannibal. Will didn’t think he had slept particularly late, but it looked like Hannibal must have spent hours shopping. 

“What do you intend to do with that, Will?” Hannibal asked, his voice mild. Will frowned in confusion and then realised he was asking about the sculpture that Will was carrying like it was baseball bat. 

“Oh, I,” he put it down onto the floor, “I didn’t know you were out. I thought it was the police, or Jack, or...whoever.”

Hannibal beamed at him proudly, smiling with his eyes. 

“I assure you, we are quite safe here.”

Will nodded and let himself be calmed by Hannibal words and his presence. Of course he was safe if Hannibal was there. They were fugitives, and yet Hannibal was standing there in a suit, his hair immaculate; as calm and formal as ever. It was immensely reassuring. Will took a few uncertain steps forward, unsure what he was doing, what he was asking for. He stopped when his chest was a hair’s breadth from Hannibal. 

“You’ve had a busy morning,” Will said, peering into an expensive looking bag and seeing only a layer of tissue paper. Hannibal made an amused noise, but stayed still, not touching him. Will wished he would, wished he would put his arms around him and hold him; comfort him like he had in bed last night. “What’s in there?” Will asked gesturing to a large box that Hannibal had set down on the floor. 

“That,” Hannibal said, stepping away from Will, ”Is a present for Sasha. Are you hungry? Now we have some supplies, I will make a start on breakfast.”

“Oh,” Will blinked in confusion at Hannibal’s sudden distance. “Yeah. Yeah, I am. I’ll, er, just go and shower.”

Hannibal hummed in approval as Will turned to go upstairs.

“Will?” Hannibal called out as he walked away. “I bought you some things while I was out. I think you’ll find these more comfortable than your dirty clothes.”

He held out two bags for Will to take. 

Will eyed them warily, before walking back to take the bag handles from Hannibal’s outstretched fingers. He couldn’t help but notice how Hannibal’s nails were cut short but lacked the elegant manicure that he’d always had in the past. It seemed slightly wrong, like he’d caught Hannibal doing something private and embarrassing. He grabbed the bags and went up to their bedroom without another word. 

He emptied the shopping bags out on the bed and looked at the clothes that Hannibal had bought for him. It was an entire outfit. Pants, a plain white shirt and a sweater that felt softer than anything he’d worn in his entire life. There was even a pair of boxer-briefs. Will knew that every item would fit him, but he was loathe to try them on. They didn’t seem like him somehow. They weren’t his style. They were the sort of clothes that had to be maintained, and looked after, whereas he always felt most comfortable in clothes that he could just throw on without a second thought. These were the sort of clothes that had to be folded away at the end of the day; the sort of things that Hannibal might wear.

Going into the ensuite bathroom, Will stripped, pointedly letting his clothes fall to the floor in a mess. A small act of defiance that made him feel rather juvenile. It felt good to shower, the hot water washing away the last traces of weariness that he’d been feeling after the long flight. He ran his hands over himself, leaving trails of soap. His cock twitched and hardened as he cleaned himself. He hadn’t jerked off in ages. At the best of times, it was rare for him to have time to himself when he could relax, knowing that Alex wasn’t about to walk in on him. After Alex had been abducted, his libido had died; but now it was waking up with a vengeance. 

He gave his cock a gentle tug and nearly moaned out loud. It had been too long and this felt so good. He let his head fall forward and rested one hand against the wall so that shower water ran down his back. That was good too; the gentle heat and pressure from behind. Almost like having someone else there, just behind him. Holding onto him. Pressing against him. He pumped his hand faster. He could come like this, with the ghost of someone behind him, almost as if Hannibal was there. Like they were back in bed together and Will was being held down, secure and safe - 

Will gasped and stopped himself. 

He couldn’t do this. He could be here with Hannibal and Alex, and they could be a family, but that didn’t mean that the relationship between him and Hannibal had to be anything more than platonic. He couldn’t jerk off to thoughts of Hannibal. Instead, he angrily turned off the water and stepped out into the bathroom. Hannibal was standing there, waiting for him. 

Will let out a small shriek of surprise, his hands covering his crotch instinctively although he was sure that Hannibal had already seen that he was hard. Hannibal had taken off his jacket and was just in shirtsleeves and an apron. The apron was clean, bleached white and unflecked by blood.

“You startled me!”

Hannibal looked him in the eye, not looking down at his naked body. 

“Sasha was worried about you, he hasn’t seen you yet this morning.”

He should have finished jerking off in the shower; his and Hannibal’s relationship was never going to be platonic. Even now, annoyed and startled, he wanted Hannibal. He wanted Hannibal’s powerful self-control to shatter so that he would reach out and touch Will. He remembered how Hannibal’s gentle lips felt as they caressed his skin; the sharpness of his teeth as they bit into him. 

He realised with dismay that that would never happen. Of course not; Hannibal would wait, would make sure that Will came to him. He was too much of a narcissist to ever force Will. He wanted Will to desire him as much as he desired Will. That was why he wouldn’t even force him to take off his clothes when they got into bed together. Hannibal would never do more than ask him politely. Even know, as much as Hannibal desired him, he was waiting for Will to make the first move. 

“I’m nearly done, you can tell Alex I’m on my way.”

Hannibal nodded but didn’t leave. The towels were behind him, but Will didn’t want to ask Hannibal to pass him one. He’d rather just wait until the man left, but he didn’t appear to be in any hurry togo. Hannibal’s hair was loosening in the steamy room, and a few strands fell forward endearingly. 

Finally, Hannibal’s gaze wavered and his eyes slid down Will’s body, stopping when they reached his scars. Will, realising how exposed he was, tried to wriggle his arm so that he could cover both his crotch and his scars. It was too late, Hannibal had seen him. The scars were too large to hide anyway. He blushed and half turned away, trying to make himself as small as possible. 

“There’s no need to hide yourself from me, dear Will.”

But when Will turned to look at him, Hannibal was already leaving. He sighed, grabbed a towel and quickly dried himself off. His dirty clothes weren’t on the floor anymore, Hannibal must have picked them up. That left him with only the new clothes that Hannibal had bought for him. They were comfortable, and, naturally, fit him perfectly. Once he had them on, he inspected himself in the mirror. He’d expected that he would look strange, that this style would look obviously false on him, but, surprisingly, it rather suited him. 

As he walked downstairs he could hear Hannibal and Alex talking in the kitchen. The words were indistinct but the tone sounded happy. The fragrant smell of coffee struck Will too and he smiled to himself. It was charmingly domestic, he could be happy like this, if he let himself be. If he could bring himself to be. 

He leaned against the kitchen door and watched his little family. Hannibal hadn’t tidied his hair, it was still loose and relaxed, falling casually just above his eyes. Alex, still in his pajamas, giggled at something his Papa had just said. This was, Will reflected, what a family should be like; sunny mornings filled with laughter and love. 

Love. It was a difficult idea. He pulled at his shirt uncomfortably, his fidgeting making Alex turn round. 

“Daddy!” Alex cried out happily. “Papa got me a present! And we made you coffee!”

“We? You made me coffee, Alex?”

“Yeah. Papa used the machine. I poured the milk into the jug.”

“The jug?” Will asked in amusement as he saw Hannibal turn to bend over an incredibly complex looking coffee machine. Alex nodded enthusiastically. There was still a red mark on his forehead from where he had been bumped yesterday, but it didn’t seem to be troubling the boy and Will didn’t want to draw attention to it by asking him if it still hurt. 

“And what present did Papa get you?”

“I have to wait until you got here and we finished breakfast.”

Will sat down on a tall chair next to Alex by the kitchen island. Sometimes he forgot how surprisingly calm Alex could be compared to other children. He would never throw a tantrum because he wasn’t getting what he wanted right away. It made him such an easy kid to deal with that Will couldn’t help but be grateful for his son’s relaxed attitude. A cup of coffee with a layer of frothy milk on top appeared at his elbow and Will turned to thank the person who had given it to him without thought. The smile that had formed as he talked to Alex faded as he blinked up at Hannibal.

“Thanks,” he muttered.

“You’re very welcome,” Hannibal said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Your new clothes suit you.”

Will glanced up and saw Hannibal’s honesty, his appreciation of the way that Will looked in the clothes that Hannibal had bought him. He blushed and turned away to see Alex watching him speculatively. 

“Papa bought pastries, but we waited for you.”

Will huddled down and sipped his coffee as Hannibal served them each flakey pastries filled with sweet cheese. It was so easy to just sit there, to let the good food and the gentle conversation between Hannibal and Alex flow over him as Hannibal talked about Florence, how the pastries they were eating were made and taught him some words in Italian. Alex sat and listened to every word Hannibal uttered, his face full of wonder as he occasionally repeated back a new Italian word

“Alex,” Will said softly after they had finished eating and Hannibal had left the room. He wanted to say something, to warn his son somehow that his father wasn’t worth this kind of adulation. His mind went blank, there didn’t seem to be any way to phrase that. Of course Alex was going to look up to Hannibal, who wouldn’t?

“You called me Sasha before.”

“What?” 

“When we got here, last night, you called me Sasha. I liked it.”

“More than Alex?” Will asked; he knew Alex didn’t mean it as a rejection, but it still hurt like one. Alex cocked his head thoughtfully.

“No, not more. Just...You chose my name when Papa wasn’t around, and Sasha is a version of Alex. So, this way, it’s like you both named me.”

“Oh. If that’s what you want. I like the name Alex, I think it suits you.” 

Alex put his hand on Will’s arm. It was a gesture that Will often used to comfort his son, but it felt odd to have the motion mirrored back to him; more awkward than comforting. 

“Ooh, it’s very big!” Alex squealed, his attention completely stolen as he saw Hannibal come back into the kitchen, carrying the box that Will had seen earlier. Hannibal put the large box on the kitchen floor and Alex jumped down from his chair to open it, but paused before touching the cardboard.

“Is it time now?” Alex asked Will, his eyes pleading. He glanced at Hannibal who was watching them both with curiosity. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s time. You can open it now,” Will said with a nod. Alex pulled back the lid of the box and gasped. Inside was a seagull. It was quite dead. It had been stuffed and posed on a little stand, caught forever with its wings outstretched as if it were just landing on its perch and it was getting its balance. Dead, glass eyes stared out from the angry-looking head, the bird’s sharp beak was sealed shut forever. 

Alex reached out with tentative fingers and stroked the dead wings. 

“He’s just like the one I told you about. He’s beautiful! Thank you, Papa!” Alex smile was so large and infectious that Will couldn’t stop himself from giving his son a small smile, even though the present itself was so strange. But then, perhaps it just showed how well Hannibal already knew Alex. Normally this would be a terrible gift for a kid, but Alex obviously loved it. 

“Will you help me put it in my room?” Alex asked, turning his back. Hannibal put his hand on Alex’s head, his hand trailing through the boy’s curls. 

“Of course.”

With that, the two of them were gone and Will was left alone in the kitchen. He felt oddly bereft. There was no work to be done, Alex didn’t need his constant attention, he didn’t have to think about meals or housework. At a loss, he trailed after Alex and Hannibal. As he approached, he could hear Hannibal’s low voice lecturing Alex. 

“ - the Ancient Egyptian practiced taxidermy, but it only became truly popular in the last hundred and fifty years.”

“How do they do it? Could I have made this with the seagull that I found on the beach?”

The conversation seemed harmless enough so Will didn’t intrude. Hannibal would not hurt Alex, he was sure of that, and it was so good to see Alex behaving like other children and interacting so well with someone other than Will. His body sagged as he listened and the last of his worry about leaving Hannibal alone with Alex left him. Without that vague sense of unease his body felt tired, even though he’d only been awake a few hours. Leaving the others to talk, Will walked to his bedroom and lay down. 

He wasn’t regretting his decision. He couldn’t have let Hannibal take Alex and not come with them, but the enormity of what he’d done was slowly sinking in. He was fugitive now. His life, and Alex’s, had been irrevocably changed because of that one decision he’d made. It had only been yesterday but the memory of standing in his kitchen, watching Hannibal fillet that fish in the bright sunlight, seemed so distant, like it had happened years ago. The weight of his decision pressed on him as if it were a tangible thing sitting on his chest. Will closed his eyes, letting his mind retreat into sleep. 

_”Daddy!”_ Alex’s shrill voice yelled as a small hand pulled at his sleeve. Will blinked his eyes open to see Alex standing next to his bed, still wearing his pajamas.

“Papa said we should go for a walk and explore and get ice cream, but I have to get dressed first and wake you up.”

Will sat up slowly, rubbing his hand over his eyes. Yet again he’d woken up feeling good. He couldn’t even remember his dream, but his nap had been restful and he felt energised. It was a good feeling, healthy in a way that Will wasn’t used to, but found he rather liked. 

“Come on, I’ll help you get dressed.”

“I can get dressed by myself,” Alex said indignantly, but still waited to make sure that Will was following him before leading them to his new bedroom. 

“Do you want to hear me count?”

“Count?”

Alex nodded. 

“Papa taught me to count to three in Italian _and_ Lithuanian. Uno, due, tre. Vienas, du, trys.”

Will clapped his hands together in applause and grinned at his son. 

“You’re very smart, did he teach that this morning?”

“No, yesterday, when we made breakfast together.”

“Do you mind Papa being here? Usually you don’t like it when we have visitors.”

“I like it when it’s the two of us, but Papa’s family. He teaches me things,” Alex’s tone made it sound like that answer should explain his sudden and unexpected affection for his Papa. 

“Hmm. Is this new?” Will asked, picking out a shirt from Alex’s closet, ”Did Han - did your Papa buy you this shirt?”

Alex nodded happily and started getting out of his pajamas. Hannibal hadn’t bought many clothes for Alex; he’d been able to bring some things with him from Wolf Trap. So when they were finally ready to leave, Alex was wearing a mixture of old clothes and brand new ones. It made him look like even more of a mixture of the two of his parents; the crisp button-up shirt that Hannibal had bought him, overlaid with a dark sweater vest that was slightly dirty with mud that Alex had picked up playing in the grass outside Will’s house in Wolf Trap. 

Hannibal was waiting for them, already outside in the sunny driveway. Will couldn’t help the smile that bubbled out of him when he saw Hannibal. If it wasn’t for this man, then he wouldn’t have his son and little Alex was the most precious thing in the whole world. Hannibal eyed him curiously but then let his gaze lock onto the stains on Alex’s sweater vest. 

“Sasha, you have mud on your clothes,” Hannibal seemed more surprised than disapproving.

“You want me to change?”

Hannibal bent down and traced a finger over one of the marks. Will doubted that he would have ever even noticed the stains if he hadn’t seen them when the mud had still been wet. Surely Hannibal was making far too big a deal out of this. He shouldn’t expect a child to always look immaculate.

“No. No, that’s not necessary. Although there is a woman who will come to the house each morning in order to keep everything clean. Her name is Maria. Perhaps, you should give her your vest tomorrow, so that she can clean it for you.” 

“Ok,” Alex nodded as Hannibal stood and went to unlock the front gate. The street looked different in the light of day. One side of the road was entirely walled off, with only occasional gateways, that must open on to other houses like theirs, but the other was lined with old buildings and the road itself was cobbled. He must have been really out of it, to have not noticed the bumpy drive last night. 

Hannibal led the way; Will and Alex trailed after him. 

For most of the walk Will kept a firm grasp on Alex’s hand and the three of them walked in silence. After Alex had been bought an ice cream and they turned to head back home, Will found himself looking around more, watching the buildings and people. Alex, frustrated by the lack of attention, released his hand and moved to Hannibal’s side; taking Hannibal’s hand and holding on to his ice cream with the other. The two of them made quite a pair. There could be no doubt in the mind of any passerby that Hannibal was Alex’s father; they looked so similar, both physically and in their mannerisms. Will smiled to himself and let the two of them chat without his interference. He couldn’t hear the words that were being spoken but the two of them were engrossed. Suddenly, Alex frowned and looked upset. Will, alert to his son’s distress, moved quickly to Alex’s side.

“But adults look after themselves,” Alex said plaintively. 

“Yet adults are just as capable of getting injured as children are. Indeed, an adult is more likely to die than child is.”

Alex let go of Hannibal’s hand, transferred his ice cream into his other hand and then took up Will’s hand instead. Little, slightly sticky fingers gripped onto him and Will glared at Hannibal. He had seemed so taken with his son, why was he trying to frighten him now?

But Alex fell back into silence, occasionally slurping at his ice cream, without further comment. It was a beautiful afternoon; the sun was shining onto the medieval buildings and Will felt almost free as he walked around with his family. Like he was a tourist just visiting this lifestyle and finding it surprising pleasant without the usual confines of responsibility.

Alex had finished his ice cream but was still nibbling on the cone by the time they reached their front gate. Hannibal unlocked it and Will walked inside, but Alex paused on the sidewalk.

“Well, Sasha?” Hannibal asked, holding the gate open for him.

“I can protect Daddy from things, but...Now you’re here, you have to help too.”

“I promise,” Hannibal sounded smug, but Will wasn’t sure why, or what, Hannibal was getting at with this line of reasoning. He let out an annoyed sigh and, walking back to Alex, knelt down in front of him. 

“It’s not your responsibility to protect me. You’re the kid, okay? We’re your parents, that means its our job to look after you, not the other way round.”

He put his arms around Alex and pulled him into a hug. The boy’s chin rested against his shoulder so that Will could feel when Alex’s head turned slightly. He wasn’t sure if the boy was relaxing into the hug or turning to look at Hannibal. When Will released him, Alex’s eyes were cast down and he was oddly withdrawn as they went back into the house. As soon as the front door closed, Alex was off, almost running up the stairs to his bedroom. 

Will stepped forward to go after him, but Hannibal’s hand on his arm stopped him. 

“Why did you say all that stuff to him? You upset him!” Will said accusingly, shaking off Hannibal’s grip. 

“I apologise, Will. I confess, fatherhood has come of something of a shock to me. I have very little experience dealing with children.”

Will shrugged awkwardly. 

“It’s not...It gets easier. Just be careful with him, he really looks up to you.”

Hannibal eyes were curiously revealing, as the man squared his shoulders. It looked like Hannibal was preening. The idea was so ludicrous that Will had to stop himself from giggling. 

“I thought you might be interested to know that there is a TV just through there,” Hannibal gestured with an elegant hand, as he changed the subject abruptly. “You might like to see if there is anything about our escape on the news.”

Will snorted. Alex and he hadn’t escaped anything, it hardly counted as _our escape._

It took a while to find a station that wasn’t in Italian, and then even longer to find something that was actually a news station. He finally stumbled across what he was looking for when he saw Hannibal’s mugshot on the screen. His hair was slicked back and he looked younger than Will remembered him being when they had first met. It was strange, seeing that curiously blank stare and not being able to read it. Will had got so used to seeing through the cracks of Hannibal’s mask and seeing the man beneath that the photo looked strange; like looking at a lifeless simulacrum of the Hannibal that he knew now. 

“Dr Lecter will be apprehended soon, we are following multiple leads and expect to recapture him in the next few days. In the meantime,” Jack Crawford’s familiar voice read out as the camera switched back to a press conference. Next to Jack, Will could see a gently sobbing Alana Bloom. “In the meantime, if you see this man, do not approach him. He is armed and dangerous. Call the police immediately - “

“And what about the disappearance of Will Graham and his son? Are you treating that as suspicious?” an unseen journalist called out. 

“We are treating that as a separate incident,” Jack said with a scowl. Beside him, Alana piped up.

“If Will is watching, then we’d all like to ask him to come home. Lecter’s escape is... Worrisome for everyone that worked on his case, but the best chance of getting through this is if we all work together.”

“So, you think he’s hiding from Dr Lecter?” Will recognised that journalist’s voice. It was Freddie Lounds. He clutched the TV remote angrily; he loathed that woman and hadn’t thought he would ever have anything to do with her ever again. “Isn’t there a strong possibility that Will Graham is with Dr Lecter of his own volition?”

“No,” Jack said sharply, “Will Graham is not, and never has been, in league with Hannibal Lecter. This conference is over.”

The camera panned back, showing Jack stand abruptly and angrily throw his mic down onto the table.

“Well, strong words from the FBI there. And coming up next we have a run down of Hannibal Lecter’s most notorious crimes,” the reporter broke in as Will watched Jack stride away, leaving Alana facing a sea of journalists. The look on her face would have once made Will do anything he could to help her; she looked so sad and needy. 

He could still go back. He’d thought that everything was final, that he was starting a new life with Hannibal, but it didn’t have to be like that. They, Alex and him, could get a flight back to the States, back to Florida and just pretend that none of this had ever happened. 

In his mind, he could picture it so clearly. Jack and Alana would descend on his little beachside house. Alana would be in tears, flooding his home with her emotions while Jack came up with the same sanctimonious bullshit that he’d always used to keep Will in line. 

He didn’t want to go back to that. 

When he turned his attention back to the TV there was a photo of a young, smiling woman on the screen. The narrator was explaining how the woman’s family had missed her after she disappeared one night, and then their grief after her corpse was found. She had been one of Hannibal’s victims. Will turned off the TV and stared at his reflection on the black screen. If he were a better person, he’d watch that. He wouldn’t ignore Hannibal’s crimes. 

He switched the TV back on. They were already talking about another of Hannibal’s victims. This time it was a businessman who was neither photogenic nor had a grieving family. Will watched as the narrator talked about the injuries that he had sustained before Hannibal had let him die, and how Hannibal had then arranged his corpse. 

Will felt something on his cheek and, touching it with his finger, realised that he had been crying. He didn’t care about Hannibal’s victims. He had no empathy, or even sympathy, for them anymore. He was crying for the man he had used to be. He had been so innocent and naive. Now he marvelled that he had once worked for the FBI, that he had managed to retain his morals and his sense of self for so long. Now he couldn’t bring himself to care about Hannibal’s victims. He hated that Hannibal was a killer because he knew, on an intellectual level, that killing was wrong; before it had been more than knowledge, he’d had a visceral repulsion to the thought of killing anyone. Will curled up on the couch and wept for the man he had once been. 

Much later, when his eyes were no longer red, he went in search of Alex. The afternoon had slipped by and it was already starting to get dark out. His son was in his bedroom, bent over a small desk with his stuffed seagull in front of him. 

“Alex? What are you up to?”

Alex turned around, startled and Will saw that he had put his pajamas back on. 

“Oh! Daddy, I’m drawing my seagull. Papa said that knowing how to draw is a useful skill, and that he’s going to take me to an art gallery soon.”

“That’s great, Alex, but what have I said about straining your eyes? It’s too dark in here, you should turn a light on. Can I see your picture?”

Alex nodded solemnly and held out a piece of paper. His eyes remained fixed on Will as he monitored his father’s reaction. 

“It’s very good! The wings are great,” Will enthused. He knew every parent was proud of their kids, but he was lucky that Alex really was talented. The sketch was childishly done, but impressive nonetheless. Alex had never made the mistake that other kids made of drawing what they thought something should look like, rather than what was actually in front of them. 

“Are you going to put it on the fridge?” Alex asked quietly. Will hesitated, he couldn’t imagine Hannibal living somewhere that was so mundane and cluttered as to have childrens drawings pinned up; especially not in the kitchen, Hannibal’s inner sanctum. 

Will shrugged. This house was their home now, and Will had always put Alex’s pictures up before. 

“Yes, of course. Have you given your seagull a name yet?” Will teased; Alex never wanted to name any of his toys. No matter how hard Will tried, he could never quite explain to Alex why it was necessary to give inanimate objects names. Getting him to name his dinosaur, Dodie, had been a struggle.

“No, Daddy,” Alex said with a sad sigh, “Can I go to bed now? I’m tired.”

“You don’t want to stay up for dinner? Or a bedtime story?”

Alex hesitated briefly, then shook his head.

“I’m not hungry, Papa made me a sandwich earlier. I do like the bedtime stories...Can I have two tomorrow, instead?”

“Two?” Will laughed, “I don’t know about that. Maybe we should ask Papa to finish his snake story first, ok? Good night,” Will bent and kissed his son’s head. 

“You’re not...You’re going to be in the house, aren’t you? While I’m in bed?”

Will frowned.

“Of course, Alex. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But, if you did go out, you’d be with Papa, right?”

Will leaned against the bed and tried not to frown at his troubled son. Alex had recovered so well from his abduction, he’d seemed to bounce back so completely, that Will hadn’t really thought about how it must have affected him. 

“Alex...You’re safe here. No-one’s going to hurt you here, ok?”

Alex pulled back the duvet and clambered into the large bed. 

“I know,” Alex replied calmly, “Good night, Daddy. Don’t forget to take Papa with you if you go out.”

Alex closed his eyes and turned onto his side so that Will couldn’t see his face. He stood there, watching over his son until he heard the little boy’s breathing even out and he knew he was asleep. 

Will left. He had a picture to hang up, but when he got to the kitchen Hannibal was there.

“He’s already in bed,” Will said by way of introduction as he paused on the threshold of the kitchen. Hannibal paused his cooking to look up at him. There was a heavy knife in the man’s hand and his broad shoulders were bound by a crisp, white shirt. He was the epitome of restrained strength. Will looked away and swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. Like this, he could almost believe that he’d never learned the truth about Hannibal, that he wasn’t a murderer. Like this, he could imagine they were back in Baltimore and he was going to have dinner with the one man he felt comfortable with. Now that Hannibal was in front of him, he realised that he had missed that feeling. He wanted that Hannibal back, he wanted everything to be back to how it had been. 

He wanted to go over to Hannibal and watch him as he meticulously cut up vegetables, he wanted Hannibal to hand him a glass of wine and kiss him. He wanted to let his head fall onto Hannibal’s shoulder and let the cares of the day fade away from his little domestic bubble. It would be so easy to do but Will couldn’t quite do it. 

“I’m going to bed too.”

“Already? I’d hoped we could eat together.”

“I’m tired.”

Hannibal stopped what he was doing and put the knife down, as if Will’s behavior was unreasonable and Hannibal was some long suffering husband putting up the idiosyncrasies of his spouse. 

“In that case, I shall take an evening stroll. Florence is beautiful in the moonlight. Perhaps, another evening, you would care to accompany me?”

Will felt himself blush and, hating his wayward body’s reaction to Hannibal, didn’t answer the man’s question. 

“I told Alex we’d put this up on the fridge,” Will said, holding his son’s drawing. Hannibal came round the kitchen island to pluck the paper from him and study it quietly

“I’m afraid I don’t have any magnets, but I’ll try and find something suitable before Alex wakes up.”

“You don’t mind?”

“We are a family, Will,” Hannibal chided, “Of course I want to display my son’s drawing, especially as it is of a present which I gave him.”

“Most parents give their children toys, not actual stuffed animals.”

“Ah, but Sasha is a special little boy, is he not? He has a good eye, don’t you think?” Hannibal said as he admired Alex’s handiwork.

Will shrugged, he didn’t want to get into this; but at the same time, he couldn’t help the smile that bubbled forth whenever he heard his son being praised. He ducked his head to hide his smile, although he was sure that Hannibal had already seen it.

“Yeah, he could be an artist, if he wanted,” Will muttered to the floor next to Hannibal’s feet. “You looked after him this afternoon.” Will said awkwardly. He didn’t want to thank Hannibal for making Alex a sandwich, but Will had been so occupied that he hadn’t paid enough attention to Alex.

“It was my pleasure and, also, my duty. I imagine it is very difficult to be a single parent, you must have no time for yourself.”

Will shrugged. He could see where Hannibal was going with this. He was trying to make Will see the benefits of sharing his parental responsibilities. Will would have been annoyed, if Hannibal hadn’t already demonstrated very clearly that he was capable of looking after Alex when Will needed some space. He’d kept Alex entertained on the plane; he’d got him out of bed and helping make breakfast every morning. 

He shivered uncomfortably and edged away from Hannibal. 

“I..I’m tired,” Will said again, but this time the words came out like a plea. Hannibal backed away from him and Will felt like he’d been released. He turned and fled the kitchen for the comparative safety of their bedroom. He tore off the clothes that Hannibal had bought him. He wouldn’t let the man mould him so easily. The expensive clothes fell to the floor and Will felt a twinge of concern. Should he pick them up? Should he care for them as Hannibal cared for all his clothes?

Will shrugged to himself. This was his act of rebellion. He got into bed and let the rumpled clothes remain on the floor. 

_The forest was dark and as silent as ever. He crouched on the ground so that he could wrap his arms around the fawn. His touch comforted it and it stilled._

_There was a loud crack; a twig snapped and the fawn flinched in his arms. He looked up and saw a man had entered the clearing. The man was a stranger, yet his face looked familiar.The man walked forward, not even glancing at Will; the man’s eyes were fixed on the fawn._

_“Devil-child!” the man suddenly yelled angrily. Will felt the fawn shake under his hands. The animal tried to bury its head in Will’s side and nuzzle closer, but Will knew he couldn’t protect the fawn._

_“Unclean! Dirty!” the man screamed again. The fawn was becoming frantic as it squirmed closer and closer to Will. He tried to yell at the man, to get him to stop, but when he opened his mouth no words came out. He had lost his voice._

_“Will?” a woman’s voice rang out and when Will turned he saw Alana Bloom stepping out of the trees. She was wearing one of the wraparound dresses that she had always been so fond of. Her hand played with the knot that kept the dress in place._

_“I would have loved you, Will,” Alana whispered as she pulled the knot open and her dress became loose. “Did you always prefer cock?” Alana pulled the sides of her dress apart and exposed her naked body._

_Will screamed. He wanted to beg them to stop but he couldn’t make any noise. He was powerless. Beside him, the fawn was still. Fat tears fell from the creatures eyes and Will wiped them away. He wanted to tell the animal that the man was lying, that the fawn was the cleanest, most beautiful fawn in the whole forest. But he was mute._

_He clenched his fist and felt the prick of the black feather. He was still clutching on to it. In desperation he threw the black feather at the two intruders. The feather flew towards them, fluttering in the air and then, in place of the feather, was a magnificent stag._

Will woke abruptly, complete awake the instant his eyes opened. The bedroom was pitch black; someone had drawn the shutters while he was asleep, so that no light came into the room at all. He sat up and looked around despite the lack of light. It was entirely futile. In the distance, he could hear the hum of traffic but, other than that, there wasn’t a noise. 

“I’m sorry to wake you, Will,” Hannibal’s smooth voice broke through the darkness and Will felt the dip of the bed as the man climbed in beside him.

“I…” Will paused, the events of the dream in his mind still. “I was dreaming.”

“Would you like to tell me about your dreams, Will?” 

In the dark, Will pulled a face, safe in the knowledge that Hannibal wouldn’t be able to see him doing something so rude and childish. 

“I didn’t know, that Alex...that anyone had ever said anything to him about having two dads. I...didn’t realize. No-one’s ever said anything...derogatory to me. Except that guy at the airport. I just never imagined. I thought I was doing such a good job, raising Alex, but I’ve let him down, I haven’t protected him. I didn’t even know he needed it.” Will’s voice hitched. It was so easy to talk like this; the darkness swallowed his words and he had no idea how Hannibal was reacting to them. 

Hannibal’s hand cupped his cheek and Will stiffened at the sudden touch. Hannibal had known exactly where he was, yet it was impossible to see anything in this darkness. 

“You have raised a fine son, there is no need to distress yourself. Now I am here, I will protect you both.”

Will closed his eyes, he felt his eyelids squeeze together, but the darkness didn’t change. It was as black with his eyes open as with his eyes closed. 

“I’ve missed you,” Will whispered into the night and turned his face into Hannibal’s hand. He felt like he was admitting a sin. He put his hand on top of Hannibal’s and then ran his hand up Hannibal’s arm until he felt the man’s neck and then his cheek. He held onto Hannibal, mirroring the way that he was being held. 

“What have you missed most, Will?”

Will opened his eyes and moved forward carefully. Even though he was touching Hannibal’s face he had no idea where the rest of his body was. He opened his mouth to speak but he couldn’t answer Hannibal’s question. He would have lied to him, but he couldn’t even think of anything that wouldn’t sound obviously false. He didn’t dare tell him the truth. The truth was too agonizing, too painfully embarrassing, that he couldn’t said it out loud; even in the pitch black room where everything felt separate from reality. The truth that he’d missed the feel of Hannibal inside him, of connecting to someone in a way that he hadn’t even imagined possible. How much he yearned to have that back, if only it could be with the man that he had believed Hannibal to be and not the monster that Hannibal actually was. 

“What time is it?” Will asked into the silence. 

“Late. It is very late,” Hannibal answered. Under his hand he could feel Hannibal’s mouth moving, his jaw and his muscles, and Will felt himself give in. He wanted so much and the darkness of the room made it feel like this was just another meaningless night-time fantasy. He leaned forward and kissed Hannibal’s soft lips. 

Hannibal opened his mouth and drew Will in and Will knew that he was doomed. 

“This doesn’t change anything,” Will gasped, tilting his head back. Hannibal’s teeth skimmed across his neck and Will wished he would bite down, that he would mark him and taste him. Instead, he felt Hannibal’s lips twist into a smirk and he knew he was being laughed at.

Hannibal pressed a parting kiss against his throat and pulled back. 

“No? In that case, you must tell me what it is you want.”

“K-kiss me,” Will groaned, impatient and stuttering with shame at having to say the words out loud.

Will felt Hannibal leaning forward, he wasn’t where Will had expected him to be. Somehow, he had moved in the dark and Will hadn’t felt him moving around. Careful lips nibbled at his neck, gentle and appeasing. Will moaned and tilted his head to the side, trying to give Hannibal more access, to encourage him to do more. His body felt slack with pleasure, even though Hannibal was barely touching him. His legs fell open but Hannibal moved away with an amused huff. 

“What do you want, Will?”

“I want…” Will squirmed, but Hannibal wasn’t touching him at all. His hips rotated, his cock rubbing against the expensive sheets. “Just touch me..Just,” Will gasped, torn between frustration and embarrassment. He couldn’t say the words, he couldn’t articulate what he wanted. “Between my legs.”

Strong hands pushed his thighs apart and the bed dipped as Hannibal settled between his spread legs. He shivered slightly as the sheets were pulled off him.

“Between your legs? Do you mean here?” Hannibal teased, his breath whispering passed Will’s hard cock. He must be so close, but Will could see nothing. He pushed his hips up, expecting his cock to touch Hannibal’s face but he was gone. Hannibal had already moved away.

“Or, perhaps, you wanted me to touch you here?” Hannibal asked silkily, pressing a greasy finger into Will’s ass. That was what Will had been wanting, it felt so good. His spine curled and he cried out.

“Yes! Touch me there!” 

Hannibal stilled, and Will was suddenly scared that he was going to pull away, as he had after he’d kissed him. 

“Don’t stop!” Will begged, “I want...I want to come with your fingers inside me.” 

He squirmed again, pushing against the finger that was already inside him. He couldn’t believe he’d said that out loud, and he half expected Hannibal to start laughing at him. He turned his head and buried his face in his pillow.

The finger pushed further inside of him and then started to pull out. Will groaned, frustrated that Hannibal might stop but he didn’t. The finger pushed back in, slowly fucking him but never quite touching his prostate. 

“Is this how you pleasured yourself in my absence, Will?”

Will stifled another moan as Hannibal pushed into him again. 

“Tell me,” Hannibal’s low voice threatened.

“Yes, yes. I did,” Will sobbed. Hannibal pushed a second finger into him and Will knew it was his reward for his honesty. Hannibal’s finger brushed against his prostate and Will screamed, his hands gripping on to his pillow as he tried to control himself. 

“Who did you think of, Will, as you did this to yourself?” Hannibal’s velvet voice was so calm, while Will gasped so heavily that his throat ached. Hannibal’s finger pushed against his prostate and Will spread his legs further, wanting Hannibal as deep inside him as he could get.

“You,” Will breathed, the air heavy in his throat. “I thought of you.”

Hannibal scissored his fingers, stretching his ass and opening Will up until he was completely exposed. 

“I thought,” Will gasped as Hannibal pushed harder, each thrust of finger rougher and more aggressive. “I thought about you doing this to me. I wanted to stop. I wanted to think of somebody else, but it was you. I tried to hate you, I wanted to hate you. But you - “ Will gasped as Hannibal assaulted his prostate, hitting it with every thrust of his fingers. “But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“What were you thinking about me?” Hannibal’s voice slid across his skin, but Will couldn’t answer. Hannibal pushed a third finger into Will’s ass.

Will thrashed his head, cock leaking precome onto his stomach; Will thought he might come before Hannibal had even touched his cock. He wanted to answer Hannibal, to tell him about the nights he’d spent imagining Hannibal was in his bed. But with Hannibal’s large, blunt figures inside him, all such thoughts were driven from his head. He could only concentrate on the way that Hannibal was pressing into him, connecting with him and, suddenly, he could slip into Hannibal’s thoughts as easily as he had in the past. 

“You weren’t the first cannibal, there was someone else, other people, cannibals, and,” Will struggled to catch his breath as Hannibal work his way into him, pounding into him and emptying him out. “And they fed you somone. It was a mistake, that first time.”

“Will,” Hannibal’s voice might have sounded broken, or it might have been a warning for him to be silent, but Will couldn’t hear anymore. He was so close. Hannibal was inside him again and he couldn’t bear for him to ever stop. He grunted incoherently, he might have been trying to say Hannibal’s name but the noise that came out of his mouth was incomprehensible, and then he came.

His come pumped out onto his stomach but, even now, Hannibal refused to touch his cock. 

Hannibal’s fingers stilled as Will’s cock stopped twitching. 

“How can you think that you are not mine?” Hannibal said gently, and kissed his inner thigh, before shifting away. The bed dipped and Will knew that he was gone. The duvet was pushed towards him, but Will remained uncovered; his spunk still warm on his belly. He was trying to remember what life had been like before he’d met Hannibal, but he couldn’t. Maybe Jack Crawford himself had been training Will for how to love Hannibal, how to see through a killer’s eyes and understand him so completely that he forgot his own moral compass.

Will’s body sagged into the mattress and he let himself drift off to sleep. Hannibal was by his side, and he did not dream. 

Will awoke alone again. The clothes that he had left in a pile at the end of the bed had been picked up and folded neatly. He put them on. He’d have to get something of his own to wear soon. Alex wasn’t in his room and he could hear voices in the kitchen. It was so similar to yesterday morning and Will knew that if he let it, this would become his routine every morning.

“Good morning, Daddy!” Alex beamed at him as he walked into the kitchen. Last night’s ill humor seemed to have been put aside and Alex was happy again. His drawing of his seagull had been taped to the fridge and Will had to stop himself from sending a grateful glance towards Hannibal.

“Morning,” Will pressed a kiss to the top of Alex’s head. He was so lucky to have such an intelligent kid. Hannibal handed him a coffee and smiled in such an breathtakingly open way that Will was almost scared. The smile was meaningful, but Will had no idea what Hannibal was up to. He took the coffee.

“And, Daddy, I met Maria. She’s nice, she liked my seagull and she said I was carino and then I gave her my sweater-vest.”

“Huh, is Maria still here?”

“No, she left,” Alex told him, “But she brought us the pastries we had yesterday.”

With that, Hannibal put out three plates and a tray of the pastries out onto the kitchen island. Will reached for one hungrily, even though Hannibal remained standing, clearly not interested in the food himself. Alex, eyed both his parents warily, then followed Will’s example and took a pastry. 

Will had just taken a particularly large bite when Hannibal started talking. 

“Do you remember the man from the airport, Sasha? The one that hit you?”

Alex put down his pastry and tilted his head. Will swallowed his mouthful quickly, spluttering slightly. 

“Yes,”

“Do you think what he did was wrong?”

“Yes,” the boy answered thoughtfully, as if trying to work out why his father was asking him questions that were so simple

“So, you believe he should be punished?”

“Yes,” Alex’s frown deepened, the answer too obvious for him. 

“Hannibal!” Will hissed, “What are you doing?” But both Alex and Hannibal were too wrapped up in their conversation, they both ignored him. 

“What do you believe is a suitable punishment for an adult injuring a child?”

“Well,” Alex’s face cleared as he thought about his father’s question, ”Hank said his Dad smacks him if he’s bad. That’s how kids are punished. But Daddy never smacks me.”

Hannibal glanced at Will, and he felt the weight of Hannibal’s consideration and judgement of his parenting skills. Will squared his jaw firmly. 

“Maybe jail? Bad people go to jail,” Alex finished decisively. 

“Unfortunately, it is not a crime to hit a child, even though, as we both know, it is wrong. So if we cannot turn to the police to deal with bad people, we must take up the responsibility ourselves. What do you think we should do with him?”

“Well, we could always lock him up. We could make our own jail for him.” Sasha puzzled, his eyes scrunching slightly as he tried to reason out Hannibal’s puzzle.

Hannibal smirked, his heavy top lip twisting slightly, and looked at Will again. Realization hit him. This was what Hannibal had been carefully steering Alex to say. He was admitting that he had kidnapped that man. He was probably in the house; alive and locked up somewhere. The basement. The basement door was kept locked, he had to be down there. Will turned and ran, flying across the hallway. 

He jerked the basement door handle but it was still locked. Looking around, there wasn’t anywhere obvious to hide a key. Hannibal must have it on him. Will put his ear to the door and listened, straining to hear if there was any noise coming from behind the door, any sign that someone was alive down there. 

He couldn’t hear anything over his own racing heart. 

Gulping back a calming breath, he tried to calm down. He couldn’t hear anything through the door, but he could still hear Hannibal asking Alex gentle questions. 

“Do you know what it means?”

“No. I asked Maria, but she said it was a bad word.

“Maria is quite correct. It is an insult -”

From the basement, somewhere deep below him, Will thought he heard a noise. He pressed his ear closer to the door, but he couldn’t be sure if he’d heard a distant scream or it was just the wood of the door creaking. 

“Because its wrong to be say things like that. Daddy’s the best person in the whole world.”

There was another noise from downstairs. 

“This is a man capable of hurting a child, he was unforgivably rude to your Daddy, he is clearly a very angry man. Perhaps, next time, your Daddy will be the one to bear the brunt of his anger; perhaps, next time, he will hurt your Daddy. How can you protect your father from this man?”

There wasn’t another noise from the basement, and Will realised he should have never left the kitchen. Hannibal’s conversation with Alex was important. That was how he would reveal to Will what he intended to do with his captive. He turned away from the door, feeling a pang of guilt that he was leaving someone alone down there. 

Hannibal glanced up to acknowledge Will’s return and held up his hand to call for Will’s silence while Alex spoke. He had the air of a circus ringmaster presenting his main attraction; Will knew the man was showing off, that he wanted Will to see how clever he was. 

“Well, if I’m not allowed to lock him up but, if I let him go, then he’ll hurt Daddy...Then, I’d have to make sure he couldn’t hurt Daddy if I let him I go. I’d kill him!” Alex clapped his hands, happy to have found a solution to the question. Hannibal smiled at him proudly and bent down to kiss him on the forehead. 

“Alex! Go to your room!” Will yelled, it was an over-reaction and Alex probably wouldn’t even understand the link between what he’d just said and being sent away. He knew he was the one making a big deal of this, his anger would make Alex remember this conversation, when otherwise it would probably have just remained a meaningless chat between Hannibal and Alex. 

The boy looked at him in surprise, watching him in that faintly appraising way of his. 

“Sasha, go to your room. I will be up in a minute.”

Alex nodded and Will felt his guilt worsen. Alex hadn’t done anything wrong, and he was such a good boy; any other kid would have kicked up a fuss for being punished without reason.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beautiful artwork by marceline:
> 
>  

“What have you done?” Will hissed, trying to keep his voice quiet, so that Alex wouldn’t hear him. 

“You know very well what I’ve done, Will, you can hardly be surprised at it. After all, you were the one who realised what I am.” 

“Let him go."

“Really, Will, is that what you truly wish for?” Hannibal looked at him intently, as if he could see straight into his mind, past all the good intentions that Will maintained because he knew he had to to be socially acceptable. “Should we politely ask him to keep the location of this house a secret, before we release him? Do you suppose, if I ask him nicely, he won’t tell the police what his kidnapper looked like? Perhaps he might even be persuaded to not give a description of Sasha and you to the police.” 

Will snorted. He’d only just been reunited with Hannibal and he was, already, discussing how to hide Hannibal’s crimes. 

“Why would he know about Alex and me? Oh, because you told him why you were doing this to him. You reminded him about what happened in the airport. Why are you keeping him prisoner? Why didn’t you just kill him?”

“You believe I should I kill him?”

“No!” Will yelled, he wanted to rage at Hannibal, but the other man’s face was expressionless. Will suddenly felt very far from home, from the safety of the moral code that he had always lived by. He was caught in a trap that he hadn’t even realised he’d been walking into. There was no way out, no way back to the life he’d once known, and, worst of all, he’d dragged his beautiful son into this spider’s web. Hannibal’s was looking at him curiously, as if he was an experiment that had suddenly done something interesting. Will ground his teeth, angry at himself. “I’m going to talk to Alex and then I’m going for a walk. Alone.”

“Are you sure that’s wise, Will?” Hannibal’s tone was so mild that anyone else would have thought Hannibal’s question was merely a slightly condescending enquiry after his health. Will heard the implicit threat. 

“I’m not going to..” Will began angrily, before taking a deep breath. “I just need some air. I can’t breath here. I need..”

Will’s voice trailed off but suddenly Hannibal was right in front him, his arms wrapping around Will in an embrace that he couldn’t escape. That he didn’t try to escape from. There was a comfort to this, being surrounded by Hannibal’s warm body, hard muscles pressed against him reassuringly. Will nodded to himself, his cheek rubbing against the material of Hannibal’s shirt as he sunk into the embrace.

“As you wish, dear Will. Go for your walk, and I’ll stay here and look after Sasha,” the way Hannibal said it, it didn’t even sound like a threat. Will let himself relax more until, eventually, it was Hannibal that gently pried himself away from Will’s grasp and pushed him away. Avoiding looking Hannibal in the eye, Will fled the kitchen. He made his way quickly up the stairs to try and make amends to his son. 

Alex was sitting at his desk and he turned round quickly as Will pushed his door open. The boy gave a small, disappointed frown and turned back to what he was working on. Will supposed he had been expecting Hannibal, his Papa. He couldn’t help but feel jealous of the bond that had developed between the two of them so quickly; but then his Papa hadn’t just yelled at him for no reason.

“Alex?” Will called out softly. The boy’s shoulders stiffened, but he didn’t turn round again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I...I was upset and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. 

“Sasha,” Alex said blankly. Will sat on his son’s bed, watching him and wanting to reach out and touch him. “My name is Sasha.”

“Alright,” Will sighed, there was nothing wrong with the name Sasha, but Will couldn’t help but feel that Alex was changing his name as a rejection of Will. “Alright, Sasha.”

Alex looked round, but this time he was smiling and Will knew he was forgiven. 

“Really?”

“Sure, just, you know, I might slip up sometimes, but you’ll just have to remind me, ok?”

Alex leapt from his chair and threw himself into Will’s arms. Will hugged his son, stroking his back. He’d never really thought about it before, but it was strange that between Hannibal and him they’d produced such a physically affectionate son. He hoped Alex never grew older and stopped wanting to hug his dad. He kissed the top of Alex’s head. 

“I just wanted to protect you,” Alex muttered, his voice muffled as he clung to Will. “I’m sorry I made you sad.”

“What?” Will pulled his son away from him, holding the small boy by the arms, so that he could look into his red eyes. 

“You were upset cos of what I said to Papa about that man at the airport.” 

“Yeah,” Will bit his lip thoughtfully, Alex was too perceptive to hide anything from, “Yeah, I know, but, but killing is wrong, ok. So...Even as part of a game or, whatever, don’t even joke about it.” Alex nodded but didn’t answer him as he pushed against Will’s grip on his arms so that he could snuggle closer to his dad. He let Alex burrow into his chest before burying his nose in his son’s hair; he was so young and so very innocent. 

A floorboard creaked and Will looked up to see Hannibal was standing in the doorway, watching them. 

“Alright, Ale - Sasha. I’m going to go for a little walk and I want you to stay here and be good for your Papa, ok?”

Alex pushed away from his with a betrayed look on his face. 

“I want to come! Don’t go alone!” Alex’s face screwed up and Will was almost scared he was going to cry. He glanced at Hannibal who was already stepping into the room and sitting down on the bed bedside Alex. 

“Sasha, I want you to take a deep breath and listen to me closely. I promise that your father is going to be safe. He won’t be gone long, will you?”

Will shook his head wordlessly, Hannibal’s low voice had an almost hypnotic effect as he calmed Alex. He’d been so desperate to get out of this suffocating house but, now he saw how disturbed Alex was, it seemed selfish of him. Alex had been through so much recently, Will couldn’t abandon him now. 

“It’s alright, Alex. Sasha. I’m not going anywhere.”

Alex smiled at him, his relief obvious even though his eye still glistened with unshed tears. Will patted his shoulder awkwardly. 

“I’ll just have to go and shower and then we’ll hang out, ok?”

Alex nodded solemnly as Will stood up and left Alex alone with Hannibal.

The shower was hot and cleansing but now that he was alone all his previous thoughts came crashing back to him. Hannibal had a man captive in this very house. Will scrubbed his skin until it was red raw; he was so scared that Hannibal would ask him to watch as he killed the man, but he knew he couldn’t do it. He could barely stand to remain in this house, but then he felt another wave of shame. Alex was so worried about not knowing where his Daddy was at all times. Will couldn’t afford to be selfish anymore, not when he had a child, who had recently been kidnapped, to look after.

He turned the hot water off and let himself be doused in ice cold water. 

He couldn’t stand by and watch Hannibal kill, he just knew he couldn’t. Will turned the water off and stepped out of the shower. There was a pile of warmed towels waiting for him, although he hadn’t heard Hannibal come in. 

Things would be so different if Alex wasn’t there, because then he could face the consequences of his own actions. He’d decided to follow Hannibal to Italy, he’d tangled himself up with Hannibal, even knowing what he was. If Alex wasn’t here then he could release the Italian that Hannibal that was keeping in the basement without fear. Hannibal deserved to be caught, and so did Will, but he couldn’t do that to Alex. 

He got dressed and wandered out of his bedroom. He could hear the muted voices of Hannibal and Alex as they discussed something in Alex’s bedroom. But there was another noise too, and it was coming from downstairs. His first thought was that the captive Italian had escape, but there was no way that he had got through that heavy cellar door.

Someone else was in their house! Will trod softly, walking down the stairs as quietly as he could until he could peek into the TV room. There, waving around a feather duster, was an old, rather plump, Italian woman. 

“Hey,” Will called out. This had to be the cleaner that Hannibal had mentioned, “Maria?”

The woman jumped, her hand flying to her chest as she burst out in loud Italian.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you,” Will held up his hands as if he was trying to calm an animal. 

“Mi scusi, Dottore! I clean, yes?”

Will put his hands down. He’d assumed, as Alex had spoken to her yesterday, that Maria’s English would be better than this.

“You’re Maria?” 

The woman nodded enthusiastically and smiled at him. 

“I am Maria, Dottore. You want coffee? I make very good.”

Will nodded awkwardly. It was odd, to have a stranger here. It felt like he hadn’t spoken to anyone beside Hannibal and Alex in ages and he’d forgotten how difficult it was. With his little family, he was himself and his gaucheness didn’t matter. But now he had to talk to someone else and he didn’t know where to look, or what to say, or where to put his hands. 

He trailed after Maria as she confidently made her way to the kitchen. It was clear that she was very comfortable in the house. She didn’t even hesitate as she started manipulating the coffee machine, even though it looked like an incomprehensible tangle of metal to Will. 

“I’m not,” Will began, sitting at the kitchen island, “A doctor. Hannibal’s the doctor.”

“Il conte?” Maria asked, a perplexed frown wrinkling her face. 

“I’m..erm..just signor, I guess. You can call me Will.”

“Si, dottore,” Maria smiled, as if she suddenly understood everything. Will was pretty sure she didn’t. “You stay here now? Si, dottore?”

“Uh,” Will stammered, surprised by how good her English had suddenly become. “Yeah, we’ll stay here for now. Call me Will.”

Maria looked at him with a confused expression and Will felt a stab of panic. Should he have given her the same fake name that they had travelled under?

“Dottore?” Maria’s asked with a frown as she handed him a cup of frothy coffee. He struggled to communicate with people in English, he couldn’t cope with trying to communicate with someone in an entirely foreign language. He looked down at his coffee, wishing he was back in hislittle house in Florida, where it was just him and Alex and he didn’t have to deal with people and their expectations. 

“Will?” Hannibal said from behind him. He hadn’t even heard him coming down the stairs. “You’re confusing Maria. In Italy anyone who has a degree is called a doctor, and Maria would be most uncomfortable if you insisted that she call you by your first name.”

Hannibal’s tone didn’t change as he switched to Italian and spoke to Maria. The cleaning woman bobbed her head respectfully and left them alone.

“I wished to talk to you away from Sasha.”

Will took a gulp of his coffee, it was too hot but he refused to react. He swallowed painfully, keeping his face straight. 

“I would prefer if we did not contradict each other in front of him. It will ultimately only serve to confuse him.”

Will bit his burnt tongue. 

“What names are we using now?”

Hannibal turned away from him as he set to making his own coffee. 

“For the moment, we are the Fells. Actually, there are a few things that I would like to discuss with you. Let us start with the most pressing; would you care to accompany me to the cellar?”

Will stilled, feeling like a cornered animal. There was nothing he wanted less in the world than going into the basement with Hannibal. 

“I’m not going to stand by and watch as you kill some…” Will whispered, stopping himself as he saw Hannibal start to smile at him. 

“Oh, Will.” Hannibal said, taking his hand. Will couldn’t remember the last time an adult had held his hand. It felt so intimate and yet Hannibal made it seem like the most casual gesture in the world. As if they held hands all the time. Will supposed that they would, if he and Alex stayed here. He let Hannibal guide him forward, following after him so that his hand didn’t slip out of Hannibal’s grasp. 

“That isn’t my intention at all,” Hannibal said as he unlocked the basement door. Will reached out and found a light switch; he flicked it on and started to descend the old stone stairs. It wasn’t until Will was halfway down them that he realised what Hannibal meant. 

“I’m not killing him,” Will said angrily as he saw a man strapped down to a sturdy metal table. He wasn’t even gagged. 

“Nor would I ask you too. Do you recognise him, Will?”

He nodded. The man looked different than he had in the airport, older and dirtier, but still recognisable the same man who had injured Alex and sworn at Will. He wondered how long ago Hannibal had kidnapped him, how long this man had been imprisoned in their basement. Will slowly approached the Italian. As much as he recognised that this was a human being, who deserved to live, it was fascinating to see the man who had hurt Alex brought so low. 

“All you have to do is hit him, just once, on his forehead. All you have to do is mark him, like he marked Sasha,” Hannibal’s accented voice was so soothing and his tone so reasonable that it was difficult to fight against. Will screwed his eyes shut and fought to remember why this was wrong.

Because this man had hurt his son, his precious baby. When he opened his eyes again all he could see was the man as he knew Hannibal saw the man. A pig fit for nothing but to be eaten. 

“It’s, it’s wrong...I can’t,” Will stammered. All the cases he’s worked on, he’d always found his way out of the killer’s mind, always remembered his own morals, but now he couldn’t. He was entirely without his compass to guide him and he couldn’t remember wrong from right. This man had hurt Alex, how could Will be expected to not want to hurt him?

He felt something slipping into his hand and he looked down to see Hannibal was putting the handle of a claw hammer into his open hands. 

“Just here, good Will,” Hannibal traced a finger above the man’s right eyebrow, “Strike him as he struck Alex.”

Perhaps it was hearing Hannibal finally call Alex by his proper name, or perhaps it was being addressed as _good_ Will, but either way, suddenly, Hannibal’s instructions made perfect sense. He raised the hammer and brought it down just above the man’s eye. 

There was silence. 

It was so startling that Will realised that the man had been talking before he had hit him. He had been babbling and pleading for his life in Italian. Will hadn’t even heard his pleas. 

“Is he..?” Will trembled and clutched the hammer. He had just knowingly inflicted pain on another human being. Clinically, he noticed that he should be feeling guilt or remorse, not a vague sense of satisfaction as he looked at the bloody wound which he’d created. 

“You did very well. It’s just a minor head injury,” Hannibal’s voice was low and when Will looked up at him, he could see the hunger in the man’s eyes. His excitement as he examined his prey, his thrill as he prepared to kill. His joy that Will was watching him, that Will was participating. 

“Do you think we should ask Sasha to come down here? He believes this man is a threat to you, perhaps seeing this would soothe his fears. Or perhaps, he would prefer to kill this man himself.” 

It was so easy to let Hannibal’s excitement overtake him, to feel Hannibal’s excitement as if it was his own. It was easy to kill, but this man hadn’t been the biggest threat to Alex. Hannibal was. He had already started to manipulate Alex, to warp him into becoming as much of a monster as his father was. If Will stood back and let this happen now, then Hannibal would only continue, and the longer that Will stayed with Hannibal the less likely he would be to challenge him. He could already feel his will draining. He had to stop this now, he had to protect his son, whatever his own, complicated, feelings for Hannibal were. The hammer was still in his hands and he gripped it more tightly. He lifted it again, positioning it over the Italian’s head, but this blow would be for Hannibal. The blow would be to protect Alex. He would twist the hammer in the air so that it struck Hannibal instead.

The hammer was already falling when Hannibal grabbed his wrist, diverting the hammer so that it fell onto the Italian’s thigh. The man gave a soft grunt of pain as the hammer landed on him and there was a sickening crack that Will imagined was bone being broken. The man was too far from consciousness to feel pain. 

Hannibal’s hand was wrapped around his wrist, squeezing at him so painfully that he couldn’t hold on to the hammer any longer. It fell with a clatter to the floor, and then Hannibal was all around him, pushing him down so that Will was bent over their victim. His chest rubbed against the Italian’s, even as he felt the heat of Hannibal’s chest against his back. Holding him down and pinning him. 

The Italian stank and, now that Will’s nose was pressed against him, he could smell the man’s stale sweat and the bitter tang of urine. How long had Hannibal kept him down here before revealing his presence to Will? The man’s clothes rubbed against his cheek, scratching at him and Will felt a flare of anger at this untidy man. He didn’t want to be a killer, he didn’t want his son to be one, and neither of them would be if this man hadn’t been so rude. If he hadn’t made himself into such an obvious target. 

Will shivered in disgust at the direction his own thoughts had taken and struggled wildly. 

“NO! I‘ll do what you want, whatever you want..Just leave Alex out of this. No more manipulating him, no more..moulding him. I’ll kill and we’ll eat. Alex will eat them. But he won’t know what he’s eating.”

“Oh, Will. You really are my finest work of art. I accept,” Hannibal slowly eased off him, so that he was still being held down, but now it was easier to breath and he wasn’t being forced to touch the man below.

“You’re lying!” 

“Yes,” Hannibal said proudly, seeming to be oddly pleased to have been caught. “Sasha is still young, but he is a predator. He was born to be a killer. We can guide him, you and I, and make sure that he is safe.” 

“No! He’s just...he’s special. Just because he doesn’t always get on with other kids, doesn’t mean he’s a killer.” Will could hear the desperation in his voice. Alex had always resembled Hannibal, but it was only now, that he could see the two of them together, that Will could see Alex was a perfect reflection of Hannibal. 

Hannibal’s hands stroked his sides, gently soothing him as if he were a scared animal. 

“Have you ever wondered just how special he is? Have you ever had him tested? No, your own distrust of mental health workers would have stopped you. Let me assure you that, if you had, the results would have been,” One of Hannibal’s hands sneaked up his back and began to pet at his hair, gently pulling at it, “Fascinating.” Hannibal’s nose nuzzled at the back of Will’s neck and he knew that the man was smelling him.

“He’s not a sadist! He’s a good boy!” Will yelled. He wasn’t a fool, he could see that Alex was special, but he’d never really worried because Alex had never shown any inclination towards harming others. 

“Such a good boy,” Hannibal whispered in his ear before nibbling softly on his earlobe. It shouldn’t have felt as arousing as it did. Not when they were discussing their son’s mental health. Not when Hannibal was pushing him over the still unconscious body of his next victim. Hannibal’s other hand slipped down to Will’s crotch and gently cupped his cock. Even in these circumstances, looking down at the Italian that he had knocked unconscious, Hannibal’s clever fingers on him were making him hard. Will groaned and pressed back against Hannibal, trying to back away from the shame and the guilt. He shouldn’t get hard as he leaned over the body of a man that he had hurt, but it was impossible not to with Hannibal fondling him so determinedly. It was so hard to remember why this was wrong. 

The hand that had been petting his hair was abruptly removed, and Will keened, wanting Hannibal’s attention to be focused back on him. He closed his eyes to block out the sight of the rude man beneath them. Then Hannibal’s hand was back on him, but he was undoing his belt and unzipping his pants. 

Will struggled and tried to push Hannibal off.

“We can’t!” Will hissed, but Hannibal’s hands were metal clamps on his hips, holding him still. “No! No!” Will thrashed more wildly. He did desire Hannibal, but he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t do this over the body of their victim, he couldn’t take this risk. He couldn’t let Hannibal know his secret.

Male pregnancy was rare and the mutation could show up at any age, so it wasn’t something that was regularly tested for. But pregnancy took a toll on the health of men, it was simply something that men weren’t designed for. Which was why it was standard practice to sterilise a man after the birth of their first child. But Will had refused to be sterilised. Not because he had wanted more children; he’d known, even then, that he would never have another lover after Hannibal. He had been so sure that he would dedicate his life to raising his son and that there would be no time for sex. He’d just wanted to get away from the enclosed white walls of the hospital and the doctors who poked at his body. The operation, and recovery, would have taken too long and he’d wanted to take his son home as quickly as possible.

He couldn’t let Hannibal fuck him, not when he was fertile. But if Hannibal knew his secret then he would want more children. 

“Calm, dear Will, calm yourself.” Hannibal’s voice was a soft whisper in his ear as the man pressed his erection against Will’s ass. “I would never force you,” Hannibal’s voice was a silken reassurance as Hannibal drew his hand away from Will. He watched that elegant hand, with its blunt fingers as it moved to the Italian’s thigh and the blood that had started to seep through his pants from where Will had struck him accidently. Hannibal dragged his fingers along the damp cloth until his fingers were red with the man’s blood.

His pants and underwear were pulled down and he shivered as he felt the cold cellar air on his ass. His hard cock pressed against the captive’s dirty shirt and he could feel the heat of the man’s still breathing body against his crotch. Will pushed back against Hannibal, trying to avoid the unconscious Italian. Will stilled suddenly as he felt Hannibal’s blood-wet hand caress his inner thighs, smearing blood along his perineum.

“What?” Will gasped, as Hannibal’s talented fingers touched the back of his balls, “What are you doing?”

Hannibal hissed softly and Will felt the tip of his cock slide between his thighs, batting at his balls. 

“Squeeze your legs together,” Hannibal commanded, although Will had no idea when Hannibal had taken his own pants off. Will shuddered, wanting desperately to be disgusted that Hannibal was using their victim’s blood as lube. Hannibal drew back slowly and then eased his heavy cock back in between Will’s thighs. He could feel the damp fuzz of Hannibal’s pubic hair as it pressed against his ass; he imagined it stained red with the blood Hannibal was using to ease the slide between Will's thighs. 

It wasn’t enough, he wanted Hannibal inside him, but he couldn’t bear for it to be like this, not in front of their victim. He could feel Hannibal’s steady breath in his ear and his firm hands keeping Will in place as Hannibal slow fucked his thighs. The slap of flesh against flesh echoed around the cellar as Hannibal’s powerful thrusts forcefully pushed him against their victim. 

He couldn’t bear to touch himself, he didn’t want to come on top of this stranger but his own cock was straining and growing painful. Hannibal’s breath quickened and Will knew he was close.

Hannibal’s fingers closed around his cock and Will squeezed his eyes shut. He could let Hannibal make him come, it would be the easiest thing in the world. He was so close already.

“ _Don’t!_ ” Will whispered furiously. He would not let himself enjoy this. Hannibal’s hand fell away and Will heard an amused huff that turned into an animalistic groan. Hannibal’s hands tightened around his hips, strong fingers digging into his pelvis as Hannibal growled his orgasm. 

“Next time, Will,” Hannibal promised softly as he pressed a kiss against the back of Will’s neck before releasing him. 

Will staggered away, his legs unsteady. His erection throbbed painfully, but he refused to touch himself down here, in this killing floor. He pulled up his clothes and sat down on the cellar steps; he was sitting in underwear that was wet with Hannibal’s semen and their victim’s blood. He should shower and wash away the mess that Hannibal had made of him.

Instead, he watched as Hannibal set to work killing and butchering the Italian. He could feel Hannibal’s thoughts so clearly. To him, this man was worthless; his life meaningless and his death would not be a loss. Society itself would be a politer place with this man removed. The only interesting thing about this man would the manner of his death.

The Italian didn’t regain consciousness. Hannibal stripped him bare and then cut him open, carefully removing his organs and setting them aside. There was so much meat. 

Hannibal didn’t look any different as he killed. HIs hands moved with the same grace as when he cooked. His face remained as calm as ever. There wasn’t some madness that descended upon him, this was just Hannibal and he looked as poised and elegant as he murdered as when he knotted his tie in the morning. He made killing look utterly mundane. Will shifted uncomfortably as the fluids in his underwear squelched; no matter what Hannibal was doing, he was still mesmerising. 

Will tore his eyes away as he suddenly realised how long they had both been down there. He stood slowly, grimacing at the slimey feeling in his underwear. His pants were ruined.

“I should check on Alex,” Will explained as Hannibal looked up at him. He gave a curt nod. 

“It is nearly lunchtime, bring him to the kitchen and we shall cook as a family.”

Will didn’t argue, he felt so drained and he could barely remember what he was supposed to be struggling against. He went up to his bedroom and changed his clothes. Alex was in his room, seated at his little desk, a book open in front of him that he was leaning over to stroke the feathers of the bird that Hannibal had given him. 

“Sasha?” Will called, feeling instantly more cheerful as Alex turned and smiled as soon as he realised that Will was there. Being loved so completely was an addicting feeling. “Are you hungry? It’s time for lunch.”

Alex closed his book and followed Will down to the kitchen, where Hannibal was already waiting for them. To Will’s surprise, there wasn’t any sign of the meat that Hannibal had been preparing in the cellar. 

“It smells like... You smell funny, Papa.”

”Funny?” Will asked with a laugh.

“Hmm,” the little boy nodded sagely in that way that always reminded Will of an old man and made him smile at his son’s sweetness, “Like uncooked meat.”

It was such an innocuous comment, if Will hadn’t been looking at Hannibal he might have missed the man’s reaction to it. But, as it was, he could see the second that Hannibal’s mask slipped as he realised that his son had inherited his sense of smell. Hannibal seemed to swell with pride and then the emotion was carefully tucked away, hidden behind a wide toothy smile that was a possessive as any that he had ever given Will. 

“Then we must cook the meat. I’ll just go and fetch it,” he bent down and kissed Alex’s forehead. Will watched the exchange with a sense of the dull dread; Hannibal had taken to Alex from the beginning, but, now he knew just how much Alex took after him, Hannibal would sink his claws even deeper into the boy. Will slumped into his chair, ashamed of himself. He should be trying to rescue his son, but instead all he could feel was happiness that Hannibal had accepted him so completely. That Hannibal loved their child as much as he was capable. 

“Do we keep meat in the cellar? What is it?” Alex asked Hannibal inquisitively, watching his Papa return to the kitchen. 

”It’s a heart, my precious boy, the heart of a creature who gave its life so that we might eat.”

“I’ve never eaten heart before.”

Hannibal picked Alex up and sat him on the kitchen island, just next to the cutting board.

“Then I shall teach you how to cook it. Heart is a delicacy and deserves to be savoured.”

Alex poked the heart with a pudgy finger when Hannibal turned to pick up a large knife. His fingertip was stained with blood, and Alex made as if to wipe his dirty finger on his pants. Will tutted softly and took his son’s hand in his, wiping the drop of blood onto his own, larger, hands. 

“Thanks, Daddy,” Alex said, grinning at him.

* * *

They ate in a dining room that had large bay windows that looked out onto their small garden. Will picked at his food, not eating the meat. Hannibal sent him several reproving looks but didn’t comment. Alex, always so aware of what was going on around him, seemed to sense that something was amiss; but each time that the little boy put a piece of heart in his mouth Hannibal smiled at him. Quickly, Alex had finished all the meat on his plate. When he’d finished, the little boy jumped off his chair.

“Sasha,” Hannibal’s voice had a steely quality that Will hadn’t heard him use with Alex before. The boy stopped in his tracks and looked at Hannibal in surprise. “You must wait until everyone has finished eating and then you must ask to be excused.”

If Hannibal had spoken to anyone else that way then Will would have been scared for their life, but Alex just tilted his head as if he was being presented with a curious concept. 

“Why?”

“Because to do otherwise is rude.”

Will shifted uncomfortably, readying himself for whatever Hannibal was about to do, but Hannibal’s words seemed to have affected Alex deeply. His little shoulders slumped and he clambered back onto his chair. 

“I don’t wanna be rude,” Alex muttered.

“You are forgiven, Sasha, you will know better for next time. Now, if you would like to go, then you are excused.”

Alex’s eyes darted to Will, who gave an encouraging nod. The boy jumped off his chair and ran from the room. 

“Do I have to ask to be excused as well?” Will said scathingly. 

“It is not necessary, although it would be polite of you.”

Will scowled and pushed his chair back so that it dragged along the floor, the wood scraping noisily against the stone tiles. Hannibal’s lips tightened, but he didn’t say anything. Will’s scowl deepened as he went in search of his son. 

Alex was in his room again, sitting at his desk as he had been before lunch, but now he was staring down at his book, his eyes not moving. 

“Alex?” Will called out, before remembering that he’d agreed to call him Sasha; Alex didn’t correct him. “Do you want to hang out? There’s a TV downstairs, or we could sit and read your book together.”

Alex shook his head without looking at Will. 

“Alright. How about if I stay here with you? I’m so tired, can I lie on your bed?”

Alex looked round at that, nodding his head with a small smile. 

Will sat down heavily and then let himself lie back. In the silence it was impossible to avoid thinking about what had happened in the cellar. He kicked off his shoes and curled up on his son’s large bed. There was only one window in Alex’s room and Will gazed out of it. From this angle he could only see the grey sky. It would rain soon. 

“Was Papa really angry with me?” Alex asked suddenly. Will startled at the noise, he hadn’t realised how close to sleep he’d been. 

“No, baby. He just...He’s new to being a dad, but he loves you very much.”

Alex hummed thoughtfully. 

“Are you going to fall asleep?”

“No, but I might just rest my eyes a little bit.”

The bed dipped slightly as Will felt Alex sit beside him. Small fingers ran through his hair. 

“I’m sorry,” Alex muttered, “For, for joking about killing this morning. I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s ok.”

“I don’t like it when you’re unhappy with me,” Alex said in quiet voice, his hand still in Will’s hair. 

“I’m not. I love you.”

Alex nodded, then got off the bed and went back to his desk. Will looked back out of the window and saw that it had started to rain. In the silence, he could hear the distant pitter patter of raindrops against the roof. His son was so innocent, Hannibal might be able to manipulate him to say things, but Sasha’s heart would always be pure. Will closed his eyes and let himself fall asleep. 

He woke to find Alex sitting next to him, his book open in front of him and his little face peering at the words. 

“Alex? What time is it? How long was I asleep?”

“Sasha,” Alex said, wrinkling his nose but not looking up from his book. “Papa says its nearly time to eat and we should come down when you wake up.”

Will stretched and yawned. He did feel better for having taken a nap. What had happened in the cellar seemed so long ago that he could barely believe it had only happened that morning. 

“Oh, yeah. Alright, Sasha,” Will said, now that he was properly rested he did feel hungry. He grinned at his serious looking son, who was far too engrossed in his book to notice. He reached out and put one arm around his son’s waist and prised his book away with the other hand.

“Daddy?” Alex frowned, but then Will started tickling the sides of his stomach and Alex shrieked with laughter, “No! Stop it, Daddy!” he gasped in between bursts of giggles. Will released him and looked at his son’s flushed face. Annoyed red eyes stared back at him and he couldn’t stop himself from ruffling his son’s hair; he didn’t know how he could have created something so perfect.

* * *

Supper was a rather stilted affair. Alex was even quieter than usual in front of Hannibal and Will didn’t make any effort to draw him out of himself. Hannibal had done such a good job of getting Alex to communicate with him, it was Hannibal’s own fault that he’d screwed that up. 

Will hadn’t noticed before but there weren’t any clocks in the house. He didn’t need to know the time, but it felt odd not being able to find out. The sky was dark grey with rain clouds and it could have any time of day. He hadn’t worn a watch in years and his cell phone was still in the States. 

So, when they’d finished eating and Hannibal suggested that Alex go and get ready for bed, Will didn’t object. 

“I’ll be up in a minute to tell you a bedtime story,” Will said, as Alex slid off his chair. At that, the little boy perked up for the first time since they’d left his bedroom. 

“You said two stories tonight!”

“Then,” Hannibal interjected smoothly, “Perhaps, I should tell you one as well.”

Alex glared at Hannibal, but then nodded and went upstairs to get into his pajamas. Will knew that Hannibal’s offer was his way of trying to make Alex forgive him for how he’d spoken after lunch. Will had been so sure that Alex was safe with Hannibal, that even at his most twisted Hannibal would only ever use Alex as a bargaining chip; but the way that he’d spoken earlier had scared Will.

“If you hurt him, if you touch him, I swear I’ll kill you.”

Hannibal’s eyes were placid as he acknowledged Will’s threat. 

“If I hurt Sasha, then I would let you.”

There was a soft catch in Hannibal’s voice and Will remembered what he’d told his son earlier. Hannibal was new to parenthood and, even though he was a manipulative bastard, not everything he did was a manipulation. Sometimes, people just made mistakes. 

He reached out and put his hand in Hannibal’s, who held onto him tightly, grasping at his fingers as if he never intended to let go. 

“Come on. We’ll tidy these away later. Let’s go and say goodnight to Sasha.”

Hannibal smiled slightly in agreement and stood up, not releasing Will’s hand, even as they made their way upstairs. Alex was already changed and in bed. Will had serious doubts that he’d brushed his teeth but, before he could say anything, Hannibal sat at the edge of the bed and asked him what story he wanted to hear. 

“You should finish the story about the Queen of the Snakes.”

“Ah yes, Egle. Where were we up to?” Hannibal asked, settling his hands on his lap. 

“She married the King and they lived under water and had three kids,” Alex said excitedly as moved his pillow so that his head was closer to Hannibal’s thigh. 

“Four,” Hannibal corrected. “But she missed her brothers very much, so she asked her husband to bring her and their children to the surface, so that she could go and stay with her family for awhile. Naturally, he agreed and told her that, when she wanted to return to him, she must stand by the side of their lake and call out his name, and he would come and collect them on a cloud of white foam. 

“So, Egle and her children went to the surface and her parents and her brothers were very happy to see them. But the brothers could not forgive the King for stealing their sister and they wanted to stop Egle from returning to the bottom of the lake. One day, they took the eldest of Egle’s children on a trip out to the forest and the brothers asked him how to call the Snake King from the bottom of the lake. The child knew that his father would come to the surface when his name was called, but he also knew better than to betray his father and he refused to tell his uncles what they wanted to know. The brothers became angry when the boy refused to answer their questions, they shouted at him and hit him, but still the boy did not betray his father and eventually the brothers returned home with the boy.

“The next day, they took the second eldest, a daughter, out to the forest and they asked her how Egle would return home, how would she make the Snake King appear. But, again, the child was too clever to betray her father. She refused to tell her uncles, even though they raged at her, yelling, screaming and slapping her, she didn’t answer their questions. So the brothers returned home and the next day they took the third child out to the forest. Yet again, the child remained silent and didn’t tell them anything about his father.

“Finally, the brothers took the youngest child out to the woods. She was a little girl, no older than you are now, Sasha, and they asked her how to call the Snake King from the bottom of the lake. She knew that it was wrong to tell them, so she remained silent, but then the brothers began to beat her. They knew that this was their last chance to learn the Snake King’s secret, and they were growing desperate so they were more vicious to this child than any of the other children. Eventually, crying and bleeding, the little girl told her uncles how to call forth her father from the bottom of the lake.

“Joyfully, the brothers picked up their weapons, went to the lake and called out the King’s name. The King of the Snakes arrived on a cloud of foam, big enough to carry his wife and children home, he was unarmed and his arms were spread wide to welcome his family; it was easy for the brothers to attack him and kill him. That night they returned home to Egle in a good mood. The next day Egle gathered her children and prepared to return to her home. She walked to the side of the lake, but when she called out her husband’s name, no-one came, instead a cloud of blood red foam bubbled up from the water and Egle knew that her husband was dead. And that is the end of Egle’s story.”

Will stirred uncomfortably in his seat at the bottom of the bed, but neither Hannibal nor Alex paid him any attention. Rather than putting him to sleep, like Will’s stories usually did, Alex seemed to be thinking hard about Hannibal’s bedtime story.

“She didn’t know that family things are supposed to be secrets.”

Hannibal nodded. 

“I wouldn’t do that, I’d never tell family secrets.”

“I know, Sasha, you are a good boy. But now it is time to sleep, your father and I have some things to attend to and we will feel better knowing that you are asleep. You will have to collect your second story tomorrow night.”

Alex nodded and snuggled into his blankets before, with an anxious glance at Will, opening his mouth to talk. 

“Daddy didn’t give me good-night kiss yet,” Alex said hesitantly. His tone broke Will’s heart. His poor baby had been through so much. Will quickly walked to his son and, bending over Hannibal, kissed his son’s forehead.

Hannibal tucked the blankets around Alex’s body, the outline of his body in the large bed making him look so small and vulnerable. 

“It has been a difficult few days, but I think we are all adjusting well, don’t you, Sasha?”

Alex yawned and nodded sleepily. 

“Yes, Papa.”


	6. Chapter 6

Hannibal stood slowly, watching the fire that he’d just started just as carefully as Will was watching him. 

“I do hope you’re not too tired, Will. I know that today has been a particularly trying day for you, but I would like to discuss our plans for Sasha.”

“Our plans for Sasha?” Will echoed. The words sounded ominous but Hannibal stepped away and busied himself pouring two wine glasses full of amber liquid. Shadows from the firelight danced across Hannibal’s face as he offered a glass to Will. 

“I’m afraid there isn’t any whiskey, we will have to buy some. In the mean time, perhaps you would like to try some Vin Santo.”

“I don’t really drink anymore,” Will said, accepting the glass. He had enough memories of his own father’s drunken behaviour to know that he’d rather never taste alcohol again rather than inflict that on Alex. Hannibal nodded solemnly and sat down opposite him. It was disturbingly similar to the way they had always sat in Hannibal’s office and Will turned to stare at the flames of the fire rather than look at Hannibal. 

“Being a single parent is difficult,” Hannibal began. “And whilst I do not wish to intrude on the bond that the two of you share, I wish to be his father too.”

“You are his father. I’ve never claimed otherwise,” Will laughed bitterly, “How could I when he looks exactly like you?”

“You didn’t tell him about me.”

“I didn’t want to lie to him about you, he was always going to find out eventually and I didn’t want him to think that I’d lied because I was ashamed of him; so I just,” Will gestured with his hand, almost spilling his glass of untouched wine. “I just didn’t tell him anything, and he didn’t ask.”

Hannibal made a vague noise that Will didn’t bother to try and interpret.

“I was not much older than Sasha is now when my own parents were killed. I…” Hannibal paused and took a sip of his drink. Will didn’t bother looking up from the fire. He knew that Hannibal’s pause was meticulously planned. He knew that Hannibal had only hesitated to garner Will’s sympathy. And yet, Will couldn’t stop himself from imagining his own little Alex. How would he cope if he were suddenly orphaned? It was too awful to contemplate. “I did not think that I would ever have a family again. Please, Will, let me be a part of my family.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

“Have you given any thought to Sasha’s education? There is an International School here, where he could have lessons in English.”

Will looked up sharply. His life felt like it was such a state of flux that he hadn’t thought about doing anything so permanent as sending Alex to school here. 

“However, I would prefer if he were home schooled. I am sure that you would not begrudge me the time spent with my only child.”

“You want to homeschool him?”

Hannibal dipped his head slowly.

“Of course, we could share the responsibility if you prefer.”

Will took a sip of his drink to hide his surprise. The drink tasted far sweeter than he’d been expecting and he gagged slightly before swallowing. He knew that Hannibal was manipulating him. All of Hannibal’s powers of subtle persuasion were going into this conversation because Hannibal wanted as much access to Alex as he could get. Will would have hated him for it, except how could he blame Hannibal for loving his own son and wanting to spend more time with him? Will’s own father had never been particularly interested in him. 

“He needs to meet more kids his own age. Learn how to get on with other kids.”

“Like his friend Hank?”

Will shivered. He was still upset about learning that Hank’s mom was a homophobe. 

“I’m not suggesting that he should be isolated. There are plenty of ways that Sasha might engage with children his own age without attending the same school.” 

Will glanced up and saw the sharp lines of Hannibal’s face carved out by shadows. He was loathe to agree to any plan of Hannibal’s, if only because he’d already changed so much of his life for this man. But, truthfully, he would rather have Alex as close to him as possible, he didn’t like the idea of uprooting his son and then forcing him to interact with a classroom full of strangers. Maybe he was being selfish, maybe it would be healthier for Alex if he learned how to get on with kids his own age. 

“I was thinking,’ Hannibal continued,”That you might like to introduce him to a sport. Then you would be able to supervise him as he socialises.”

Will crossed his legs and leaned back in the chair as he thought about Hannibal’s proposal. Then he stopped himself as he realised what he’d done; he’d mirrored Hannibal’s posture exactly as his body unconsciously copied the man that he desired. No matter what atrocities Hannibal committed, he was still a very handsome man. Will huffed loudly and uncrossed his legs. If Hannibal noticed anything odd he didn’t say anything and his face remained as impassive as ever. 

“This is a new life, Will. One that you and I can chose to sculpt in any way that we wish. Anything is possible.” 

“I..” Will glared at the floor, not looking up a Hannibal’s face. The words sounded so tempting. Life could be so easy, here, with his family. “I don’t want to...to worry about constantly looking over my shoulder. I want Alex to be safe, he needs structure; not a life as a fugitive.”

Will knew his voice sounded accusatory and he felt like a hypocrite. He was the one who had willingly brought Alex.

“Of course. That is something any father would wish for.”

Hannibal sounded so smug, so horribly self-assured that Will wanted to hit him. The elegant man just seemed impervious, as if the FBI were the strange ones for wanting to catch him, as if he had some God-given right to be a murderer.

“No more killing.”

Hannibal straightened in his chair, striking the same pose as he had in so many of their sessions together. He was still playing the all-knowing psychiatrist who could be trusted to help Will, no matter what. Will leaned back, letting the his head hit the back of his chair as he looked up at the ceiling. He would not fall for Hannibal’s deceptions again, not now that Alex was here and sleeping just above their heads. 

“What makes you say that, Will?”

It was such a ridiculous question; the sort of thing a psychiatrist might ask their patient,rather than something a lover might say. Did Hannibal think of Will as his patient? Was all of this one giant experiment for Hannibal? Were he and Alex just more lives to be twisted in the name of Hannibal’s insatiable curiosity. He laughed, letting out great gasps of air until he felt almost light headed. 

“You know,” Will’s voice caught slightly on the echoes of his laughter that were still caught in his throat. “Most people wouldn’t ask why they should stop killing.”

“Because,” Hannibal said with a cock of his head, “Most people would assume that you had problems with the ethics of killing. But that is hardly the case, is it, Will? You struck the first blow against our last victim.” 

“Only because he hurt Alex. There can’t be any more.” 

“So we may kill, but only those that hurt our son?”

“No! No-one else!” Will raised his voice and looked up to see that he was being watched  
dispassionately. Will saw the muscles in Hannibal’s forearm move as he raised his wineglass and took a sip. Hannibal’s heavy lips pressed against the glass and Will remembered the feel of those lips; what they felt like on his sweat soaked skin, what they felt conquering his mouth, what they felt like biting into his skin. He drank slowly, letting the wine sit in his mouth before he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Will looked away guiltily, he didn’t need to look up from the floor to know that Hannibal was smirking at him. Will hunched into his chair. He’d always known that Hannibal was attractive, but something about being here together, now, seemed to make the man more mesmerising than ever. 

“I would never ask you to change what it is in your nature to be, Will. I would not ask that you stopped loving Sasha, or that you make eye contact with me. These are essential facets of who you are. I am a killer. You knew this about me when we left the States. Is it fair of you to ask me to change what is in my nature?”

“I don’t know,“ Will snorted sarcastically, “Is it fair to the people you’re killing?”

“Which is why we are discussing terms, why we are deciding who we shall kill. Can you honestly say that anyone who would hurt Alex deserves to live?”

He felt like he was slipping into an abyss and he couldn’t stop himself, he didn’t want to stop himself. Alex was his precious baby, and it was far too easy to agree to kill anyone that touched him.

“Stop saying _we_. I’m not killing anyone.” WIll snapped angrily, not willing to think about this anymore. He wanted to check on Alex and then go to bed; he was too tired to play Hannibal’s games. 

Hannibal sighed and put his wineglass down on the table beside his chair, his fingers caressing the edge of the wineglass. Those fingers had been inside Will. Those fingers had smeared their victims blood in between Will’s thighs so that Hannibal could fuck him. Those fingers had killed a man today. 

“What if you’re caught again? They’ll be looking for you now,” Will said, his tone almost pleading.

“Only you could have caught me. And now we are together, in our home with our son. This is a chance to be a true family, we can raise our son in a loving environment where no-one will ever judge him or see him as anything other than the delightful boy that he is.”

“Did you love your parents? You want a family, but, but did you even love your first family?”

Hannibal was silent for so long that Will began to worry that he’d offended him. It was a perfectly reasonable question to ask a psychopath. 

“I was always very grateful to them for the shelter that they provided me. I had a sister. She,” Hannibal paused and Will knew, with absolute certainty that Hannibal was being completely honest with him, “She was mine and I loved her. Just as you and Sasha are mine and I love the two of you.”

Hannibal’s voice was so fervent that it was impossible to doubt him. And if he believed this, then he could believe everything else that Hannibal said about being a family.

“Alright. Homeschool him. Not forever, just, just for now. Just while you get to know each other. And I’ll be teaching him too. And I want him to make friends here too.”

Will glanced up and saw Hannibal’s mouth carving out a delighted smile. 

“Thank you, Will. As a gesture of good faith, I’ll tell you about every kill. There won’t be anymore secrets between us.”

“You can’t just tell me afterwards. Not like you did with Abigail. I can’t….can’t find out like that again. You can’t use Alex to tell me that you have kidnapped people off the street and are keeping them prisoner in our home.”

Hannibal stretched in his chair; strong muscles stretching taut and then relaxing, like some giant cat that knew it was master of its domain. 

“Then I shall tell you beforehand.” 

Will groaned. 

“No, thats not enough,” Will passed a hand over his tired eyes. He knew that Hannibal could be trusted not to kill entirely indisciminantly, but he didn’t want him to kill anyone that gave Alex an odd look. “You can’t just tell me. I want to talk about it before you, before you do anything.”

“Very well, I accept,” Hannibal said with a toothy smile, “I meant what I said, Will. Only those who hurt Sasha. I may have only hunted the rude before, but now I have found a much more worth cause.” 

Will nodded slowly. Somehow Hannibal had twisted this conversation that had started out as a discussion about Alex’s education. But it had ended with him asking to be entirely complicit in Hannibal’s kills. He’d been trying to thwart Hannibal, yet now he was going to be deciding on who Hannibal’s victims would be. 

He’d let himself be manipulated by Hannibal, yet again. 

Had the man even been angry with Alex for not asking to be excused from the lunch table, or had that been part of a manipulation to stir up Will’s protective instincts, so that when Hannibal told him that anyone who hurt Alex would be killed, Will would agree. If so, Will had played right into Hannibal’s hands. 

It had hurt, in the past, knowing how completely Hannibal had manipulated him. But this time Will couldn’t bring himself to care. This time, Hannibal had overplayed his hand, he’d revealed too much to Will. For all his manipulations, what Hannibal really wanted was Will to be his partner, a willing killer by his side. 

It would never happen, but how could he be angry with Hannibal for wanting him. No-one ever wanted him; no-one had offered him so much. And Will didn’t want to be alone anymore.  
He’d struck the first blow, but he hadn’t killed the Italian. Hannibal had. He would have lived, if it hadn’t been for Hannibal. His death was not Will’s fault.

Hannibal put his glass down and stood up. With two steps he was standing right in front of Will’s chair. 

“You have no idea,” Hannibal said softly, reaching out to trail his fingertips down Will’s cheek and stroke at his jaw. “Quite how much I have missed you.”

Will blinked and tried to look away. He wasn’t sure where to look in the face of Hannibal’s obvious affection.

“Come,” Hannibal said, his voice getting even softer so that Will had to strain to hear him, “It's time for bed.”

Hannibal held out his hand to help Will out of his chair, but he didn’t release him until they were up in their bedroom. Hannibal undressed slowly and carefully, paying attention to each item of clothing after he removed it. Will shrugged off his clothes and got into bed as quickly as he could. Their conversation had left WIll exhausted and he found he had nothing else to say to Hannibal. He pulled the duvet over himself and fell almost instantly into a deep sleep. 

_He was standing in his Dad’s house, watching as Hannibal navigated the tiny kitchen. His white apron was as pristine as ever as he concentrated on what he was cooking. Will enjoyed watching the tight lines of Hannibal’s clothes as he created some culinary delight that Will would probably have never heard of before. He was a master of his skill, each movement as precise and controlled as a ballet dancer’s, even on Dad’s cheap kitchen counters._

_Will sighed in satisfaction and put a hand on his round, pregnant belly._

_Hannibal looked up then, seeming to only just realise that Will was there, watching him. A wayward strand of hair fell forward onto Hannibal’s forehead as he smiled at Will; his face cracking into a look of pure joy. Beside him, Alex giggled and grabbed hold of Will’s free hand._

_He smiled down at his son. Alex was very young, he was a toddler and he’d only just spoken his first word. Will was so proud of him._

_“Pa Papa. Papa!” Alex burbled happily._

_Hannibal laughed, loudly and without any hidden meaning. Will laughed with him and offered his hand for Hannibal to take. As Hannibal stepped away from the kitchen counter, Will could see what it was that he’d been cutting up. It was the severed head of the Italian._

_Will flinched back, but neither Alex nor Hannibal seemed to notice that anything was wrong._

_“Help me,” the severed head implored, blood dripping from his lips as he spoke, “Frocio, help me!”_

He woke with a jolt, his whole body spasming as adrenaline coursed through him. He was wide awake, without a trace of sleepiness. Will gasped a lungful of cold air. The bedroom was pitch black and he wasn’t sure if his eyes were open or not. He gasped again, his heart was racing. He needed to get up, he needed to get away. 

He sat up and pushed the sheets off him, only to realise that they were damp with his sweat. He hadn’t had night sweats in years. The cooling sweat felt itchy on his skin in a way that he’d entirely forgotten about. 

“Will?” Hannibal said, his voice as clear as ever. He sounded like he was wide awake, and made Will wonder how long Hannibal had been awake for. Had Hannibal lain there, knowing that Will was having a nightmare, and not woken him up? For a second Will felt oddly angry about that, but it was instantly quelled and he was ashamed to assume that there was that level of domesticity between them. “Are you alright?”

“Bad dream,” Will muttered, as he swung his feet off the bed and onto the cold, tiled floor. 

“Would you like me to get you some water?”

“No!” Will said, suddenly furious. In his dream, Hannibal and he had been a family, they’d been happy; but that was just an impossible dream because Hannibal was a monster. It was too easy to forget that and let the dream linger in his mind. Here, in the darkness, it was so easy to imagine that Hannibal was the dream version of himself. Perhaps that was what made that dream such a nightmare, rather than bloody head of his and Hannibal’s victim. 

Hannibal was silent and Will knew he was waiting for Will to calm down and explain himself. Will snorted to himself. He didn’t have to explain himself to Hannibal. He hated the man for showing him happiness even as he destroyed it. 

“I..” Will paused. He’d had every intention of telling Hannibal how much he hated him, but the words seemed trapped in his throat. “I’ll get some myself. Turn the light on, I can’t see a damned thing.”

Hannibal clicked on his bedside lamp; the golden light seeming to swallow up the dark. Will didn’t look round at Hannibal, he liked the anonymity that the darkness of the bedroom gave him and he didn’t want to see it ended, but he’d have been unable to find his way out of the room without the light. 

“I will accompany you. None of the lights are on and you don’t know where the light switches are.”

Will scowled at his feet. Hannibal was so fucking arrogant. Will could have learned where the light switches were, Hannibal just happened to be right that he didn’t know. 

“What did you do with the rest of the body? The bits..The bits that you don’t _eat?_ ”

“The bits that _we_ don’t eat,” Hannibal corrected as he got out of bed. Will glanced back at him angrily, but Hannibal looked like he had in Will’s dream. Will didn’t have any experience sharing a bed with someone, the domesticity of it was striking. He swallowed nervously. 

“I dreamt about the Italian’s head. It was, he was, asking for my help.”

Hannibal’s expression didn’t change, his face looked as smooth as ever and Will wanted to punch him. He wanted yell at Hannibal, to rail against him. 

“Will, you have had a long day. Let me get you some water and something to help you sleep.”

“No! You’re not drugging me! I just can’t sleep with you lying there next to me. I watched you kill a man today.” Will couldn’t stand to look Hannibal, but it felt so good to call him a killer. If everything that had happened in the cellar was Hannibal’s fault then none of it was his. 

Hannibal moved so quickly that Will felt a strong hand gripping onto his arm before he was even aware of Hannibal moving.

“We have spent the evening discussing our future and our plans. It is only natural that you would find that unsettling. Part of being in a relationship is communication and negotiation. It must be difficult to have to share that part of yourself when you’ve had so little experience in relationships.”

Will yanked his arm, but Hannibal was holding on too tightly and he couldn’t shake him off.  
.  
“I’ve had girlfriends before.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow in a look of polite disbelief. Will shrugged half-heartedly. He didn’t need to explain himself, or his lack of experience, to Hannibal. 

“Indeed, but making decisions about your son’s education is far more intimate than - “

“No, I’m not unsettled because of that! You can’t put this on me!“

Hannibal released his arm with a sigh. 

“Will,” he sighed again as if Will were particularly obtruse. “You have known, for many years now, what crimes I am capable of. You yourself have the most unique perspective on them. You knew that that wouldn’t change merely because we were on a different continent. From the second that you came to me, asking for my help, you put yourself and our son into my care. And I will treasure you both. Yet you have doubts that I can protect you, you regret coming here with me.”

Will shook his head trying to stop Hannibal’s words from sinking in. Hannibal made his problems sound so simple. 

“What is done is irreversible. How long do you intend to spend wallowing over things that cannot be changed?”

Will sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

“I could still leave, I could take Alex and go back to Florida,” Will muttered mutinously. Hannibal stood next to him, towering over him, and put a hand on his shoulder; it felt comforting. The hand moved inexorably around his neck, cupping his throat. Will’s head was gently pushed back as Hannibal’s large hand held onto him. Hannibal didn’t squeeze but Will knew he could kill him like this. 

“Could you?”

Hannibal’s hand didn’t move. Will swallowed painfully and looked Hannibal in the eye. The light from the lamp cast a cheery yellow glow around the room. Hannibal’s hand felt warm and strong against him. 

“I dreamt that we were happy. You and me and Alex,” Will said, watching Hannibal’s reaction. 

“We will be happy here, Will. The three of us together,” Hannibal removed his hand and bent to kiss the top of Will’s head. 

“It’s not that easy!” Will pushed himself up the bed and pulled the covers over himself. Even aside from all his other concerns, Will still had to worry about his fertility. There was no way that could get himself sterilised in some Italian hospital without Hannibal noticing. 

“Perhaps not,” Hannibal said, getting back into bed and reaching for the lamp. “But you deserve happiness just as much as Sasha does. Now, are you sure that you wouldn’t like a glass of water?”

Hannibal’s hand hovered next to the lamp. Will could be back in the comforting darkness of the bedroom if he let Hannibal turn out the light, but he had the urge to annoy Hannibal. To inconvenience him in some small way just to repay him for the way that he had ripped through Will’s life. 

“I want some water.”

Hannibal got out of bed and smiled widely at him before leaving the room. Will had to strain his ears to hear Hannibal’s bare feet on the stone tiles as he made his way downstairs to the kitchen. It felt odd having someone looking after him like this, he was used to comforting Alex whenever he had a nightmare, but he was never on the receiving end of such care. He shuffled around in the bed. He still hadn’t made himself comfortable by the time that Hannibal returned and handed him a glass of water. 

Will didn’t thank him. 

Hannibal got back into the bed and watched him sip his water in silence. Will didn’t look round but he knew that Hannibal was observing him; taking note of how much water he was drinking, watching his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow. 

Hannibal reached over and took the half full glass from his hand. 

“I do know,” Will began, but the words sounded awkward in his mouth so he lay down and turned his back to Hannibal. “I do know that we can’t go back. I don’t want to go back. But that doesn’t make this any easier.”

He heard the soft thud of Hannibal putting the water glass down on his bedside table and then the light clicked off. The anonymity of the sudden complete darkness was very welcome. Hannibal’s heavy arm was thrown across his chest and Will was pulled backwards towards the comforting heat of Hannibal’s chest. 

“If it were just the two of us, I would give you all the time in the world. But it is not. Sasha needs as much stability in his life as we can give him. You must be strong, my darling, if only for his sake.”

Will nodded blindly, knowing that Hannibal would feel him moving. He could be strong for his beautiful boy. 

The bed was soft and warm and Will closed his eyes but he couldn’t get back to sleep. Instead he concentrated on the feeling of Hannibal behind him. The whisper of warm air hitting the back of his ear every time Hannibal exhaled. The heavy protection of Hannibal’s arm as it cradled him. 

He imagined what these past years must have been like for Hannibal sleeping in his lonely cell, night after night. The man was a murderer, a monster and Will shouldn’t pity him but he couldn’t help it. It was so easy to imagine the privations that Hannibal had been through and the petty punishments that Chiltern would have doled out. All this time Will had had Alex, he’d been happy but Hannibal hadn’t even known he’d had a family. He’d missed out on so much. 

Will gripped Hannibal’s hand. He did regret not telling Hannibal about Alex earlier. He would never have taken Alex to visit Hannibal in his ugly cell, but he could have given Hannibal something pleasant to think about during his lonely days.

“Sleep, my beautiful boy,” Hannibal whispered in his ear.

There was a lump in Will’s throat and he couldn’t speak. There was so much to say. He wanted to tell Hannibal that he loved him. That he’d loved him that first night that they’d spent together. That he’d never stopped loving him. But he couldn’t. Will _couldn’t_ love a monster. 

He let out an unmanly whimper that seemed to sum up all his anguish and frustration. 

“Sleep, Will, and in the morning everything will be better,” Hannibal said, kissing the back of his head. Will didn’t believe him, nothing would have changed by the morning. Nonetheless, he willed himself to fall back asleep. He snoozed fitfully for hours, only vaguely aware when Hannibal opened the shutters and let the morning sunlight in.

“Will?” Hannibal said, his gentle tone reprimanding him, “It’s time to get up.”

Will groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. It smelled slightly of the stuff Hannibal used to keep his hair in order. 

“ ‘m tired,” Will grunted through the pillow. He hadn’t been able to sleep in for ages. He always got up to make Alex breakfast; it was their routine, but now he couldn’t find the energy. He was exhausted and he didn’t know how he could find the strength to face another day. He just wanted to relax and not worry about everything that had happened yesterday. The thought of going through another day doing nothing but agonising over their situation was overwhelming.

“Very well,” Hannibal said quietly. Will smirked half-heartedly behind his pillow as he heard Hannibal close the bedroom door. He threw Hannibal’s pillow back to his side of the bed and closed his eyes. 

“Daddy?” Alex’s voice woke Will from his doze. His son was still in his pajamas and he was holding a cup of coffee. “I brought you your coffee. Aren’t you going to have breakfast with me?”

Will sat up slowly and carefully took the cup from his son. 

“Papa said you were sleepy, but we always have breakfast together.”

Will took a large gulp of coffee and put the cup on the bedside table.

“Papa said that tomorrow’s going to be a big day. That he’s going to give me lessons and teach me things and today we’re going to make a timetable and I’ll have lessons every day.”

Alex smiled at him happily but Will couldn’t find the energy to smile back at him. 

“That’s good? Isn’t it Daddy?” Alex’s face fell as he watched Will nervously. 

Will pulled his son up onto the bed. Alex loved Hannibal and Will wouldn’t destroy that. 

“Yeah, that’s great.”

“And Papa said that we’re going to go shopping today and buy clothes and books and pencils,” Alex said, grinning again and nodding to himself. “You’ll come too, won’t you?”

“Yes, Sasha, I’ll come.”


	7. Chapter 7

Will had been abandoned, but he didn’t really mind. He leaned back precariously on the wrought iron chair and felt the Italian sun on his face. It felt good. He was surrounded by people; pedestrians streaming past the cafe, tourists pointing and gawking at everything they walked past, other customers sitting outside to drink their coffee and have a late morning snack. Yet Will was as calm as when he stood in the middle of a river to fish; he could feel all the tumultuous lives slipping past him yet none of them touched him. He was at peace.

The waiter made a small noise before putting his coffee and toasted sandwich down on the table. Will hoped the man didn’t expect to be paid straightaway, he didn’t have a dollar on him, and definitely no Euros. But the waiter just gave a flirtatious smile and left him alone. 

Alex and Hannibal were in a stationery store across the piazza from the cafe, but Will hadn’t been able to keep up with them. He’d always known that Alex could be very particular about the things that he liked and disliked, but usually Will would try and get him to accept he didn’t have to be so exacting. A neighbor had once given him some old clothes that her son had outgrown. Alex had flatly refused to wear any of them because they had all had pictures of cartoon characters and super-heroes on them. To Will it barely mattered what he wore, as long as he was comfortable and vaguely presentable. Yet once Alex had decided that he disliked something no amount of Will cajoling or promising him rewards could get him to change his mind. He wouldn’t scream and yell like other children, he’d just calmly refuse to do something that he didn’t want to do. 

The boy’s stubbornness could make shopping for him difficult. Shopping with him and Hannibal was too much for any sane man to bear. 

Hannibal had, it appeared, decided that the whole day was going to be spent shopping. It was the sort of ridiculous idea that only someone with no experience handling children would have, and yet, in that magical way that Hannibal had, it was actually working out for him. He’d wanted to buy Alex some more clothes, as well as school supplies. 

For a while Will had been worried that Alex’s stubbornness and Hannibal’s inflexibility would clash and that Hannibal would suddenly realise that looking after a child wasn’t as easy as he’d been imagining. But Hannibal just seemed to swell with pride when Alex calmly told him that he would not wear the sneakers that the shop assistant had suggested, the ones that had a picture of Spiderman on them. 

Hannibal had just smiled and held onto Alex’s hand. He seemed to have limitless patience for his son. 

After the fifth store, Will had needed a break and Hannibal had deposited him outside a cafe while he and Alex continued their shopping. Will sipped his coffee. It tasted very similar to the coffee that Hannibal gave him in the mornings. Far richer and stronger than the stuff he used to make for himself back in Florida, but Will found he had much preferred it like this.

Over the gentle babble of tourists and pedestrians, Will could hear the splash of water from the fountain in the middle of the square and the coos of the pigeons and the flutter of their wings. Was Hannibal so patient with Alex because he was just as fussy about the clothes that he wore? Was he encouraging Alex’s pickiness because he saw it as another similarity between the two of them? Was it possible that Hannibal’s sense of style was genetic? Will smiled to himself and imagined his Alex in miniature versions of Hannibal’s check suits. He laughed out loud and a woman at a nearby table looked round to give him a strange look. He ducked his head and, sipping his coffee, looked round to watch the door of the stationery store.

Hannibal emerged from the store, with Alex right behind him. Even laden down with shopping bags, Hannibal still looked elegant; beside him, Alex was bouncing with excitement and clutching a paper bag to his chest. Hannibal pointed towards Will and then put his hand on Alex ‘s back and pushed him gently forward. Alex grinned widely and ran, his little legs racing through the air as he tried to get across the piazza as quickly as he could. Pigeons scattered in front of him, taking to the air as he ran too close to them.

“Daddy!” Alex panted excitedly, “You’re still here! Papa helped me find notebooks and I bought five. And all different kinds of pencils. Do you want to see my notebook?”

“Sure, sit down. Do you want some of my sandwich?”

Alex jumped onto the chair opposite Will, squirming slightly to get comfortable on the cold metal and pulled a notebook from his bag. Even though it was clearly a children’s notebook, the paper was thick and of far nicer quality than Will would have ever thought to buy. 

“Do you like it?” Alex asked nervously. “I wasn’t sure if that was the right color.”

“It’s very nice, Sasha. Did you only get one?”

Alex shook his head

“Well, can I see the others?”

Alex cocked his head thoughtfully. 

“If you want to. They’re all the same. This was the one that I liked.”

“You got five all the same? How are you going to tell them apart?”

“It’s ok, look, theres a space for you to write the title.”

“Hmm,“ Will pushed his sandwich across the table. “Eat up. You haven’t eaten since breakfast. Aren’t you hungry?”

Alex bit into the sandwich quickly. 

“A little. Papa gave Maria a shopping list this morning and he says he’s going to teach me to cook.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Will scolded mildly. Alex glanced round at Hannibal, who was walking remarkably slowly across the square, stopping to look more closely at the sculpture in the middle of the public fountain. Alex leaned forward with a guilty look.

“I’m not sure cooking’s as interesting as Papa thinks it is.”

Will smiled indulgently.

“No, maybe not. But your Papa is very good at it.”

Alex took another bite of Will’s sandwich and leaned back, swinging his legs as they were too short to reach the ground. 

“Listen, Alex, Sasha,” Will corrected himself quickly, “I’ve been thinking. Would you like to take some swimming lessons? We could try a find a group that teaches in English.”

Alex swallowed his mouthful of sandwich before answering. 

“But, I used to swim in the ocean. I know how to swim.”

“Lessons could teach you how to swim further out, and swimming in a pool is very different to swimming in the ocean.”

“Because there’s no waves in a pool.”

Will nodded. Before Alex could answer, Hannibal approached the table. He put the numerous shopping bags down on the cobbled ground and leaned over Will, rubbing his cheek against one side of Will’s face and then the other. For a moment, Will was frozen in surprise, but then he realised that Hannibal was just greeting in him in the local fashion; with a kiss on both cheeks. 

Hannibal stood with a smile and turned to take a chair from a nearby, empty table. It occurred to Will that he had never, in all the time that he had known Hannibal, seen him smile as often or as honestly as he had these last few days.

Alex was watching him curiously, not looking down at the sandwich that he was devouring. Hannibal sat down and looked around expectantly for the waiter, who materialised in seconds. The flow of rapid of Italian that ensued was practically incomprehensible to Will. He recognised that Hannibal was ordering more food and coffee but that was all. 

The waiter glanced at Will with a small, seductive smile. Will blinked repeatedly and fiddled with his cup, sloshing the remnants of his coffee around. He wasn’t used to anyone finding him attractive and the waiter’s unashamed appreciation was unexpected. 

“You’re going red, Daddy.”

Hannibal laughed, a deep belly laugh that Will would have never imagined him capable of.

“It’s hot,’ Will muttered, “What did you order?”

“Just a little lunch. We’ve finished shopping for Sasha, but I thought we might buy some things for you too,” Hannibal leaned back and rested his hand on the back of Will’s chair; it was a sign of pure possession, “You need new clothes as well, Will. Don’t you agree, Sasha?’

Alex wrinkled his nose.

“Daddy doesn’t like shopping.”

Hannibal smiled gently, his thumb rubbing against the back of Will’s neck. To any passerby they looked like a picture perfect family.

“Sometimes we must all do things that we find distasteful in order to gain what we desire.”

Alex nodded but Will wasn’t sure that he understood what Hannibal was saying. If nothing else, exposure to Hannibal was going to increase his son’s vocabulary. The waiter returned with more coffee and glasses of water for all of them. As he picked up Will’s old coffee cup he shot a mournful glance at Hannibal’s hand where it sat claiming the back of Will’s neck. 

Hannibal’s thumb stroked a gentle caress against his skin, gently tickling the sensitive patch behind his ear. Will shivered and didn’t pull away.

“One store, and you can’t just buy things for me,” Will said, his voice strained and slightly too loud. The woman who had looked at him earlier looked over at them with a scandalised expression. Will ducked his head, leaning slightly towards Hannibal’s hand. 

“One store,” Hannibal promised as the waiter returned with some plates of food. There was a glint in his eye as he spoke that sent dread into Will’s heart. Hannibal was going to make him spend the whole afternoon trying on expensive, uncomfortable clothes. Will sighed sorrowfully, feeling sorry for himself while Hannibal explained what the dishes in front of them were to Alex. He taught Alex the name of every dish, correcting his pronunciation carefully. The food did taste good, but that wasn’t what made the meal special. He was eating outside in the fresh air, surrounded by his little family and his worst concern was that he would have to try on some clothes. Will grinned to himself and picked at the food in front of him. 

Will had vaguely assumed that Hannibal would cheat on his promise of taking Will to only one store by making them go to a department store. Instead, they went to small boutique where the clerk greeted them politely in Italian and switched to English as soon as he realized they were American. Everything was folded so neatly that Will didn’t want to touch anything, in case he made a mess. 

“I don’t think this is really me, I don’t need these type of things. I just need something comfortable to wear.”

“A few shirts, Will,” Hannibal said persuasively, “And perhaps a jacket. Maybe a pair of jeans.”

The clerk grinned widely at them as Will’s shoulder slumped. Already there was a small bundle of clothes in Hannibal’s hands, although they’d barely been in the store for two seconds.

“They will,” Hannibal said as he all but pushed Will into the changing room, “Be very comfortable.”

Alone in the changing room, Will looked at his reflection in silent commiseration and then started to strip. It seemed impossible to him that Hannibal could have possibly picked up the right sized clothes, but everything seemed to fit. The shirts were soft against his skin and he was amazed at how much one item of clothing could change his appearance. The jeans that Hannibal passed to him over the changing room door felt strange. They hugged him tightly in ways he wasn’t entirely comfortable with and made it look like he had more of an ass than he did. 

Will scoffed to himself, trying to remember if he’d ever cared what his ass looked like before, and pulled on the jacket that Hannibal had picked out. It made him look thinner, and somehow more streamlined. He felt like he was dressing up in someone elses life. It was far more fun to dress as someone else than it was to slip into someone else’s mind. Will smiled at his reflection and shook his head in embarrassment before opening the changing room door and stepping out.

Hannibal was waiting for him expectantly, another bundle of clothes in his hands ready for Will to try on, while Alex leaned against a rack of jackets, shuffling slightly and clinging to the expensive clothes. He looked exhausted and Will felt a shot of guilt for keeping them out so long shopping for himself. 

“Oh, Daddy, you look,” Alex looked him and down, his tired face pouting slightly in confusion, “Pretty. Daddy, you look pretty.”

“Indeed he does,” Hannibal agreed, his smugness laced with lust.

“We can’t get all of this!” Will protested and caught the little price tag that was attached to the cuff of the jacket. His eyes widened in astonishment. It seem ridiculous that a piece of clothing could cost that much. 

“Will!” Hannibal said sharply. “You need new clothes and these are perfect. Are you uncomfortable in them?”

Will looked back at his reflection. He’d certainly never be able to wear something like this to go fishing in or to fix up boats. There was something overtly sexual in dressing like this and Will had never before imagined himself a sexual person. He looked at Hannibal in the mirror, who was smiling slightly as he watched Will’s behind. 

“I can’t spend this much on clothing!” Will bit his lip, knowing that he was already giving in.

“It is my treat, and it is my pleasure,” Hannibal caught his eye in the mirror and watched him, quietly observing Will’s reaction to signs of Hannibal’s sexual interest. Hannibal smiled and held out some more shirts and some folded up sweaters. Will touched the sweaters, they felt as soft as the one that Hannibal had already bought him. Soft and luxurious in a way that Will had never thought he either needed or deserved. 

“Hannibal,” Will said imploringly. He didn’t want to try all these on, and he was acutely aware of how tired and bored Alex was looking. “We can come back another time, this is fine for today!”

Hannibal gave a resigned nod and Will went to get changed back into his own clothes. By the time he came out Hannibal had already paid for his clothes. The clerk took everything that he’d tried on and started to bag it up for them. There was another bag, already packed, that Hannibal was holding onto. Will was sure that it contained at least one of the sweaters that Hannibal had wanted him to try on. But before he could say anything Alex had taken his hand and was leaning heavily against him.

“Can we go home now?” Alex asked quietly. Will smiled and ran his hair through Alex’s curls.

“Yeah, we’re going there now and you can have a nap.”

Alex pulled himself away from Will.

“Big boys don’t nap,” Alex’s voice was so quiet that Will barely heard it, but he grinned anyway.

“Big boys know when they need a nap,” Will said firmly. Hannibal opened the store door and held it open for Will and Alex. “Thanks, I mean, for the clothes.” Will stammered. He only needed new clothes because he was hiding from the law because of Hannibal, so he wasn’t sure if he should be thanking Hannibal. 

“You’re very welcome,” Hannibal said with a slow blink and dip of his head. There was something different in his body language as they walked home along the cobbled streets. A slight relaxation of the shoulders, so that while he still looked as strong and as dominant as ever, there was a slight vulnerability to him now. Will wondered if his imprisonment had done that to him, or if it was because he’d suddenly gained a family and was struggling to deal with the powerful emotions arising from learning he was a father. He had the strongest urge to put his hand on Hannibal’s back and prop him up.

“Look, Daddy, it’s the man from the airport! The one that hit my head,” Alex said pulling at his hand to get his attention. Will stumbled in surprise, his head whipping around to look in the direction that Alex was pointing. There was a photograph of the young Italian man’s face pasted on to the wall. Underneath was a short message in Italian and a phone number. Someone was missing this man, someone had loved him and that person was searching for him. 

“What does it say about him, Papa?”

“Merely that he has not been seen for several days.”

“Good, he was really mean,” Alex said, giving the poster a last look and then turned away as he lost interest. Will couldn’t turn away as quickly. He hadn’t killed the man, but he might as well have. He’d struck him unconscious, he’d watched Hannibal butcher him. 

But looking at the photograph put up by some worried relative, showing the Italian smirking superciliously at the camera, Will couldn’t bring himself to care. He stepped closer, tempted to touch the photocopied paper with his fingers. He should care, he should feel guilty, but he just felt empty.

Will shook his head, trying to remember what it felt like to be innocent, what it felt like to view the world in black and white and to know what was good and what was evil. But he couldn’t remember and his mind was too foggy to think clearly; he turned to follow his little family. There was a man watching him, hurrying through the crowd with his eyes locked on Will as if he wanted to talk to him. 

Will hesitated. There was no good reason for anyone in this country to want to talk to him. He hesitated too long and the stranger was suddenly in front of him. The young man said something to him in Italian. It was obviously a question, an urgent demand, but Will didn’t understand anything beyond that. He looked round for Hannibal to translate, but Hannibal and Alex were already walking away.

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak Italian,” Will said, backing away and looking at the man’s chin so he didn’t have to look at the earnest hope in the man’s eyes. The young man grabbed his arm, stopping him retreating further. He shook off the stranger’s hand and hurried to catch up with his family. His imagination, always so active, was already conjuring images and scenarios and he hated it.

He wordlessly took the shopping bags from Hannibal and slipped his hand into Hannibal’s, feeling the older man hold onto him tightly. Hannibal’s hand was warm and slightly calloused. He squeezed their palms together for a second before releasing him. 

“I should carry Alex, he’s had a long day.”

Hannibal paused to look down at his son. Alex frowned back at him, grumpy after so long on his little feet. 

“Would you like to be carried, Sasha?”

“No! I’m a big boy,” Alex scowled. Will squatted down to look Alex full in the face. 

“Of course you are, Sasha, but sometimes even big boys get tired. Like, yesterday, when I had a nap on your bed.”

Alex nodded irritably.

“Can Papa carry me?”

“Of course, Sasha,” Hannibal interjected before Will could say anything. In all honesty, Alex was getting heavier nowadays and Will was tired too; but it still galled that Alex had chosen Hannibal over him. 

Hannibal lifted Alex easily and tucked him against his chest so that Alex’s chin rested on Hannibal’s shoulder and his little legs dangled over Hannibal’s hips. They continued their walk home in silence. Will was starting to become familiar with the streets and buildings around their home and he looked around, memorizing the route they had taken. 

When they reached their front gate they both stopped. Will was waiting for Hannibal to get out his keys to unlock the padlock, but Hannibal didn’t unwrap his arms from Alex. 

“He’s asleep,” Hannibal said softly and turned so that Will could see Alex’s face. His eyes were closed and he looked deeply asleep. There was such a tone of wonder in Hannibal’s voice and Will empathised with it completely. It often amazed him how he could have created a new creature, completely separate from himself. 

“Yeah,” Will whispered back. “Where’s your key?”

As cherubic as Alex looked when he was asleep, Will knew from experience that he would be grumpy if woken from a nap. Hannibal moved Alex, carefully cradling him as if he were the most precious thing in the world to him. Will supposed that he probably was.

“The inner pocket,” Hannibal answered with a slight nudge of his chin. Will had to step closer and reach into Hannibal’s jacket, careful not to disturb Alex. He could feel the heat of Hannibal’s body underneath his hand and the firmness of his muscles. He found the keys and pulled them out as quickly as he could. Alex gave an annoyed little grunt and turned his head slightly, his eyes still firmly shut. 

Will unlocked the gate and then the front door, while Hannibal silently watched. His strong arms wrapped around his son until he laid him down on his bed. Alex squirmed and muttered something as Will took off his shoes and covered him with a blanket. Hannibal had left by the time Will finished so he stayed a moment, sitting on Alex’s bed. There was something so much easier about having someone else there to help raise Alex. Will had always thought that he was a good single father, but having Hannibal around today had meant that they were able to get so much done.

Will stood and took his new clothes to his bedroom. He unpacked them, putting them in the empty drawers and closet set aside for him. It felt like he was declaring this house truly his home. The bag of clothes that Hannibal had bought while Will had been changing did indeed have another soft sweater in it. There was also a soft, dark grey cardigan, a second pair of jeans and more underwear than Will had owned in his life. He laughed silently. He knew these clothes were the first step in Hannibal’s plan to slowly improve his taste in clothing. Unless he put his foot down the expensive jacket would be the first of many. He wasn’t sure he would put his foot down, he might not care about the clothes themselves but there was something intoxicating about finally being seen as sexually attractive; especially by a man as mesmerising as Hannibal.

Finished with his unpacking, he went in search of Hannibal who he found, unsurprisingly, in the kitchen. His back was to the door and Will didn’t want to startle him if he was wielding a knife. Instead, he stayed just outside the kitchen and leaned against the door frame before speaking.

“You know, a guy can’t really call somewhere home if he doesn’t have a key,” Will called out, he knew he was going to stay in this house with Hannibal, he didn’t need to be physically confined.

Hannibal paused what he was doing, his back stiff and tense so that Will could see the strength of his muscles through his shirt. It would be so satisfying to run his hand over those muscles, to feel Hannibal’s strength, but he stayed in the doorway, and didn’t enter Hannibal’s kitchen. 

Hannibal turned, his face impassive as what was on the cutting board came into view. It was a human lung. Will tripped backwards, surprised and disgusted but overwhelmed with deja vu. The scene was eerily similar to last night’s dream and his hand flew automatically to his flat, empty stomach.

“I will have a set of keys made up for you,” Hannibal said airily, ignoring Will’s reaction. He returned to his work of forcing the air from the dead Italian’s pink and healthy looking lung. “I’m afraid that supper won’t be ready for some time, would you care to sit with me while I cook?”

Hannibal turned his head, a strand of hair falling into his face as he worked with exuberance. 

“I’m - “ Will stopped himself. How could he be disgusted by what Hannibal was doing when he’d already eaten human flesh? He’d already eaten this man’s flesh. Logically, this was the same as watching Hannibal prepare the dead man’s heart. Yet there was something different about this. Hannibal was so enthusiastic, revelling in his enjoyment and his dominance over his victim. Will wondered if Hannibal’s mood would be obvious to anyone else.

“Will,” Hannibal stepped away from the cutting board and rinsed his hands before fetching Will a wine glass. He put it down on the kitchen island and stood, bottle of wine tilted and hovering above the glass, as he waited for Will to come closer before pouring. “Join me. After all, we should discuss Sasha’s lessons for tomorrow.”

Will stepped into the kitchen and Hannibal smiled and poured the wine. He held the glass out for Will to take. 

“I used to draw you, my beautiful Will, during my captivity, but I could never quite capture you.” Hannibal swished the wine in the glass as Will took another step closer. He felt like a timid animal that Hannibal was gently tempting closer. He sat down and ignored the proffered wine glass. “I had to destroy almost all of my sketches of you because they were so imperfect, and those few that were acceptable were stolen by Chilton.”

“Is he dead?”

Hannibal put the wine glass down on the counter next to him and returned to his work. His back strained again and Will couldn’t help the stir of unwanted desire he felt as he watched Hannibal. 

“Frederick Chilton lived a far longer life than anyone who met him could have reasonably expected.”

Hannibal pulled a sharp knife out of it’s holder, the metal sang as it was taken out so that Will could hear a swooshing noise. How strange it was to be seated and unafraid while Hannibal Lecter had a sharp knife in his hand. 

“I’ve noticed,” Hannibal said, setting the lung aside and choosing an onion to cut, “That Sasha is fond of reading. Perhaps we should set aside a time for the two of you to read together each day.”

Will knew he was being weak, but he was so proud of Alex and he’d put so much time and effort into teaching Alex to read that he let himself become distracted from what Hannibal had just said. He’d admitted to killing Chilton, but Will couldn’t stop the proud smile when he thought of Alex reading.

“I guess,” Will said sullenly, damping down his smile.

“Of course, we can tailor our curriculum to suit Sasha. For the present we have all the supplies that we need, but it will be necessary to order textbooks. I have very little experience with the current theories of children’s educational psychology.” Hannibal sounded oddly meditative and Will had the feeling that Hannibal was just telling him his thoughts. That he was speaking without agenda or goal. Will didn’t know from personal experience but he thought that this was something that normal couples did and he liked the feel of it. It was calming to listen to Hannibal as he worried about how to provide his son with the best education. It did, Will realised, give him a feeling of immense security and he felt again that odd sense of calm as he realised that he could have this perfect life, if he could just accept what Hannibal truly was. 

He listened with half an ear but let his mind drift as he was soothed by cadence of Hannibal’s accent and the mesmerising lines of his shirt. He blinked from his stupor when Hannibal put a hand on his shoulder.

“You haven’t touched your wine,” Hannibal said reprovingly. “Come, Will. The meat needs to cook, bring your wine and we can sit together. I have missed our chats very much.”

Will flinched at that. It hurt to remember the way that he used to bare his mind to Hannibal during their unofficial sessions. 

“No. I’m gonna watch the news, see if they’ve released any more statements about your escape.”

“As you wish,” Hannibal’s hand slipped down his arm and he pulled Will up from his seat. He half expected that Hannibal was going to try and kiss him but, as soon as Will was on his feet, he let him go. They were standing so close that Will could see the slight stubble on Hannibal’s smooth cheek. What would that stubble feel like against his fingertip? He remembered the way that Hannibal had kissed his inner thigh after he’d made him come the other night. Had he felt Hannibal’s stubble then? He couldn’t remember, he’d been too lost in other sensations. He pushed past Hannibal to get passed him to the TV room, leaving his wine behind and untouched.

Throwing himself down on the couch, he found the remote and turned on the TV. A roar of noise filled the room.

“ - despite the dramatic rescue of Dr Chilton it has now been confirmed that he has died from his injuries. Although the FBI have not yet confirmed that this is indeed the work of Hannibal Lecter it seems highly likely that there is a connection between Lecter’s escape and Dr Chilton’s murder. Dr Chilton was found late last night, his body partially entombed within a - “

Will changed the channel. A fat man said something in loud Italian and the studio audience laughed uproariously. Will clutched his arms over his chest and watched the Italian sitcom, feeling like a coward for not wanting to know what Hannibal had done to Chilton. 

Will looked round sharply and saw Hannibal standing in the doorway, watching him intently.

“What did you do first? Kidnap Chilton or rescue Alex?”

Hannibal hummed thoughtfully and came to sit down next to him on the couch. 

“You have a surprisingly low opinion of me. Sasha’s safety was my first priority. Frederick fell into my lap, almost literally. Of course, I had hoped that I would be able to visit him before we left, but he made it incredibly easy for me.”

“You didn’t eat him.”

“Frederick, in life and in death, was only fit to be food for insects. It almost pained me to give him a manner of death that has such a proud heritage.”

“What did you do?” He didn’t know why he wanted Hannibal to say the words when he hadn’t been able to watch to the news.

Hannibal seemed to unfold himself so that he appeared even larger on the couch, taking up more space although barely moving a muscle. Will wondered briefly how he had ever managed to pay attention to anyone else when Hannibal was in the room. His every movement fascinated Will.

“Did you not watch the news?”

Even though they were indoors Hannibal was wearing leather shoes, the polish shining brightly from the light of the TV. Will just had socks on and his feet felt exposed and weak. He shrugged and tucked his feet up on to the couch, refusing to admit that he hadn’t wanted to watch the news. That he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it. 

“I used a technique known as scaphism. Chilton did not deserve a quick death, but I did not have the time or the means to make him truly suffer by my hands alone. There is a hollow tree trunk, out in the woods, that I always thought the perfect size for Chilton. I tied him up inside it, leaving his hands and feet exposed, and I fed him a mixture of milk and honey. There are more efficient ways to induce diarrhea, but this is an ancient Persian method of execution and I bowed to their traditions.”

Will could imagine it vividly.

Chilton would have screamed and screamed, not understanding what was happening to him. He would have soiled himself, but he would have held out a hope that he would survive this ordeal. That someone would find him, that Hannibal had let him live because he hadn’t outright killed him. Then the insects had started to arrive and he hadn’t been able to shoo them away. He would have wriggled and squirmed but they would have been attracted to the overpowering stench of his feces. Bound and helpless there would have been nothing that Chilton could do as the insects fed on him and breed on him and in him, slowly burrowing into his skin. His fingers and toes would have been in agony as gangrene set in, and still he would have hoped that he would be found in time. 

“I’m going to be sick,” Will muttered, but his stomach felt fine. He couldn’t summon up any sympathy for Chilton. Instead, he empathised with Hannibal. He knew exactly how Hannibal had felt tying up his erstwhile captor and pouring quart after quart of milk and honey down his throat. He’d repaid Chilton for his imprisonment in that tiny, grimy cell where Hannibal had spent so many years. Chilton had been a petty sadist, too much of a narrow minded coward to achieve anything truly beautiful. Hannibal had shown the world exactly what Chilton was fit for.

Will shook his head, trying to clear it, trying to remember how he was supposed to feel. 

“I need to get outside, I need some air.” He could almost smell the shit and putrefying flesh that he’d imagined so clearly.

“Let me show you the garden, Will, it is a little wild - “

“No!” Will said, almost running from the room. He opened the front door and stood on the front porch, taking great lungfuls of air through his nose. It was still light out but it had already begun to get chilly. He had the strangest urge to cry, but he knew his tears weren’t for Chilton. He’d assumed that the man was already dead, but finding out the way that he’d died was horrific. Hannibal had killed people in worse ways, bloodier and more painful ways. All he’d done to Chilton was tie him up and give him diarrhea. Yet Hannibal had stripped Chilton of his dignity as he killed him. Just as Chilton had spent years stripping Hannibal of his dignity. Will shivered in the cold; his sock clad feet especially cold against the stone tiles. He went back inside and sat down to watch more of the incomprehensible Italian sitcom while he warmed up. 

The sitcom ended and Will turned back to the English language news station. A journalist was standing in front of the ruins of a building as she explained that one group of people had attacked another group. The camera scrolled around, showing the corpses left behind from the attack. These people had been killed in the name of some cause, but they were just as dead as if Hannibal had butchered them himself. 

Eventually he turned the TV off, and went to check on Alex. As he walked up the stairs he heard Hannibal’s low voice coming from Alex’s room.

“My father, your grandfather, once gave me a pet cat.”

“Really? Pets make me sneeze.”

“Would you want a pet, if you weren’t allergic?”

Will strained his ears but all he could hear were the rustling of papers. He crept closer, not wanting to disturb them, but curious to hear what Hannibal would say to Alex. He wanted to understand how the two of them had become so close so quickly. 

“No,” Alex finally whispered. “When I was little Daddy wanted to have pets. But I don’t understand why. Pets can’t talk, they’re boring. Sometimes he’s sad because it’s my fault he can’t have lots and lots of dogs.

“Hmm. What is it about dogs that your father likes?”

“I don’t know.” Will could hear the frustration in Alex’s voice, ”He likes to touch them. He touches the neighbor’s dogs. Their fur is really soft, and he stroked them, but I get bored. And they make me sneeze.”

“In order to learn about the world around us we must study it. You are a very intelligent boy, Sasha, so you must have lots of questions about the world around you. Your father likes dogs, but you don’t understand why. You are missing information. How do you think you could learn more about dogs?”

“What do you mean, Papa?”

“Your seagull is very beautiful, Sasha. You can study his wings and learn the mechanics of flying.”

There was another long silence.

“Papa, I don’t understand. Do animals have to be dead before you can study them?”

Will pushed the bedroom door open and saw the two them at Alex’s little desk. Hannibal’s arm was around Alex’s shoulder as they both sat, leaning towards the stuffed seagull.

“Daddy,” Alex smiled at him, but his smile was a little dimmer than usual and there was a slight frown on his forehead. “Is it alright to kill things, Daddy?” Alex asked suddenly. Will scowled, but Hannibal started talking before he could answer

“Sasha, everyone will tell you that killing is wrong, but that doesn’t stop anyone from eating steak. It is not a question of right and wrong, it is a question of what is necessary.”

“Alex,” Will began, but Alex interrupted him, his shrill voice sounding querulous.

“What about vegetarians? They don’t eat steaks.”

Hannibal kissed the top of Alex’s head.

“No, my child, they do not, but just because some people are blind does not mean that the rest of us cannot enjoy the beauty of the sunset.”

Alex gave a little annoyed sigh and Will was sure that he was not understanding what Hannibal was trying to tell him. 

“Sasha,” Will licked his lip, feeling slightly bewildered. He wanted to tell Alex that there was nothing to worry about and there was no reason to be upset, but he knew that Alex would find that answer frustrating. He could tell Alex that killing was wrong, but then the child might want to become a vegetarian and he wasn’t sure that Hannibal would be able to cope with that. He shrugged to himself. Let Hannibal deal with the mess that he’d created.

“You know killing is wrong, Sasha.”

Alex shot Hannibal an unreadable glance.

“Our supper is nearly ready,” Hannibal said, standing smoothly. “Will you help me set the table, Sasha?”

Alex grinned at him, trailing after Hannibal and leaving Will alone in Alex’s bedroom. He felt left out and upset. At a loose end, he turned around and went back downstairs. He was so used to Alex being the center of his world that he didn’t know what to do with himself now that Alex was so interested in Hannibal. 

The food smelled delicious as Will went into the dining room where Alex had almost finished setting the table.

“Daddy?” Alex began in a tone that Will recognised. Alex wanted something. The child didn’t look up, instead keeping his eyes down as he concentrated on making sure a fork was perfectly straight.

“Yes, Sasha.”

“When I learn to swim, will you teach me?”

“I was thinking you should take a class. Then you could get to meet some boys and girls your own age. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Alex glared at the fork on the table.

“But Papa will be teaching most of my lessons, won’t he? And Papa’s great, but, but sometimes he makes things really complicated. And it’s nice when its just the two of us, like it used to be. Can’t you teach me to swim? Just the two of us? Please, Daddy?”

Will smiled and sat down so that he could pull Alex into a one-armed hug. 

“Of course, little faun. We’ll do that. Just the two of us.” He kissed Alex’s forehead just as Hannibal came in, bearing food. Alex blushed slightly and pulled away from Will, which he supposed was understandable. He’d just admitted to having problems adjusting to Hannibal being in their lives. It was only natural that Alex was embarrassed.

Dinner was a rich stew. The lung, which had looked so vibrant when raw, had been cooked to a dark brown color. It tasted as good as everything that came out of Hannibal’s kitchen, but Will felt no shock of horror as he chewed. Nor did he share Hannibal’s obvious enjoyment of his victory over his prey. He just felt deadened. 

“I am excited to begin your lessons in the morning, Sasha. I imagine the experience will be stimulating for all of us.” Hannibal said, breaking the silence. Alex nibbled on the piece of lung that was on the end of his fork. 

“I don’t know. We never decided on what we’re going to learn about tomorrow.”

“No, I’m afraid we ran out of time today, but I’m sure we will manage nonetheless.”

“What do you want to study, Alex? Sasha?” Will corrected himself. Alex shrugged. Usually the little boy was excited about the prospect of learning anything new. He absorbed new information and craved knowledge for the simple joy of learning. “Did you get enough of a nap, Sasha? Are you still sleepy?”

“A bit, I’m sorry, Papa, I do want study, really!”

Hannibal gave a magnanimous tilt of his head that was an acknowledgement of his son’s apology, but not an acceptance. Will glared at him and scraped his fork against his bowl so that the metal screeched angrily.

Hannibal and Alex looked at him with matching expressions of annoyed curiosity.

“Oh, sorry,” Will said unapologetically, ”I was being clumsy.”

Hannibal’s expression changed minutely. His top lip seemed to sit more heavily on top of his mouth.

“Perhaps, in the morning, we shall study drawing.”

Alex sat up in his chair, swallowing his mouthful of food quickly.

“Really?! Drawing’s a lesson?” Alex gushed excitedly, “Can I draw my seagull again?”

“Yes, drawing is an important skill and you have an aptitude that must be cherished.”

Alex beamed at Hannibal, who smiled back. Will took another bite of stew, the years seemed to stretch out ahead of him. There would be a family meal together each evening, and Will would watch Hannibal and Alex, occasionally mediating between them. Perhaps there would be another child at the table. Will stopped the thought quickly. He had to get sterilised as quickly as possible. It wouldn’t matter if Hannibal found out afterwards, it would be too late for him to do anything by then. 

“Can I be excused? I’m really sleepy.”

“You may,” Hannibal said proudly, “And we will be up soon to tell you a story.”

“Thanks, Papa!” Alex cheered as he jumped down from his chair, yawning as he went.

“What happened to your cat?” Will asked suddenly. 

“My cat?” Hannibal’s eyes were on Alex’s half-eaten bowl of stew. 

“The one your father gave you.”

Hannibal still looked distracted, but Will was sure he had Hannibal’s full attention.

“Ah, that cat. Nothing happened to it.”

“Did you kill it?”

Hannibal looked scandalised, both his eyebrows rising rapidly. It was artfully done, but just slightly over-acted.

“I don’t care,” Will said quickly. He truly didn’t. He imagined Hannibal as a little boy had been completely unaware of the reasons behind the things he did. He would have been intelligent and uncaring, but not yet angry enough at the world to truly be a monster. “You were a child.”

Hannibal looked at him, his head tilting as he considered him.

“I killed the cat, but not for the reasons you think. It killed a bird that my sister had found. The bird had a broken wing and she kept it in a little cage. One day the bird escaped its cage and the cat killed it.”

“So, you killed the cat for revenge?”

“No,” Hannibal paused and Will knew he reliving some distant memory. His accent was thicker when he spoke again. “I assumed that the death of the cat would make her happy. She was crying for her dead bird so I snapped the cat’s neck to appease her.”

Will leaned back in his chair and pictured the young Hannibal, confused and angry and not understanding why the death of his pet cat hadn’t made his sister happy. 

“But she just cried more,” Will finished knowingly. Hannibal nodded and Will didn’t pry further. He doubted that Hannibal had ever spoken so readily about his sister to anyone before and he treasured Hannibal’s trust in him. They finished their meal in silence and took the dirty dishes to the kitchen. Hannibal insisted on running them quickly under water before leaving them for Maria to clean in the morning.

Will waited until he was finished so that they went up to Alex’s room together.

“Sasha, shouldn’t you be asleep by now?” Will asked teasingly as he saw that Alex was still wide awake and sitting up in bed. 

“But,” Alex whined, “Papa promised me a story!”

Will sat down on the end of the bed and squeezed his son’s ankle, not sure how he felt about being so easily replaced. He often struggled to think of bedtime stories to tell Alex, but his son’s ready preference for Hannibal was hurtful. He knew neither of them were doing it on purpose. Hannibal just wanted to spend time with Alex; for Alex it was just a new source of interesting stories that he’d never heard before. 

Hannibal went to sit next to Alex, leaning back against the headboard.

“And I will tell you one, my son. Do you know the story of Jurate and Kastytis?”

Alex shook his head, his eyes wide and eager as Hannibal pronounced the strange names. His accent, which always sat so heavily on his tongue when he spoke English, was beautiful as he said the Lithuanian names.

“Jurate was a sea goddess who lived under the sea in an amber palace,” Hannibal began, but Alex frowned and squirmed so that Hannibal paused questioningly.

“What’s amber?”

“The word has two meanings. Amber is a substance made of the hardened sap from inside a tree, that is what Jurate’s palace was made of. The hardened sap is yellowy-orange in color so amber is also the name of that color. Traffic lights and the turn signals on cars are amber.”

Alex grinned in surprised delight at Hannibal’s detailed explanation.

“Kastytis was a fisherman and he was very talented, he was killing so many fish that there weren’t enough left in the sea. So Jurate, who thought it was her duty to protect the fish, went to punish him, but when she saw him, she fell in love. She had never seen such a handsome mortal. She took him down to her amber palace and they lived there together happily, for a little while. 

“Not long afterwards Perkunas, the god of thunder, discovered their love. He thought it was wrong for an immortal goddess to love a simple, mortal fisherman. So he threw a thunderbolt at the amber palace, destroying it and shattering the amber into a million pieces. In the explosion, Kastytis was drowned and he died. Jurate was heart broken and she began to weep, but instead of salty tears she wept drops of amber. 

“After a thunderstorm it is very common for pieces of amber to wash up on the shores of my home country. Some people say they are the remains of Jurate’s palace, others say they are her tears.”

Hannibal took a small box from his pocket and opened it carefully. Will craned his neck to see what was inside it.

“This is a piece of amber that belonged to my uncle, your great-uncle, and now I am giving it to you. Be careful with it.”

Alex took the amber from the box carefully, as he stared at it in awe. It was a small orange cylinder, flattened at one end. Will would have assumed it was a whistle, but there wasn’t a hole in the side.

“Great-Uncle Robert used this as a cigarette holder and it is one of the very few possessions that he left behind.”

“Why did he need a cigarette holder? People don’t use them anymore, do they?”

“No, not anymore,” Alex put the amber back in the box and Hannibal closed it with a loud snap. “But it was so that the smoke of the cigarette was further away from the smoker’s face. It is a most unsavoury habit, but Great-Uncle Robert lived many years ago and people were not aware then of the dangers of smoking.”

Hannibal put the box on the bedside drawer although Alex’s eyes lingered on it hopefully.

“Thank you, Papa,” Alex said, as Hannibal tucked the bedsheets around him. Hannibal kissed him good-night and rose so that Will could come and kiss him good-night too.  
Alex’s hand shot out and he grabbed Will’s wrist before he could move away.

“Thank you too, Daddy,” Alex said earnestly, his wide eyes looking up at Will and then yawning widely.

“For what, Sasha?” 

“For giving me Papa.”

Will gently pulled his wrist from Alex’s grasp.

“Sleep well, I love you, Alex.”

Alex’s eyes had already started to close but he blinked them open when Will used the wrong name. Instead of correcting him, he just smiled happily at his father

“Love you, Daddy,” he murmured, already half-asleep.

Hannibal took his hand and lead him out of Alex’s bedroom, his face blankly contemplative. Will wondered how attached to that cigarette holder Hannibal really was. It was, yet again, a strange gift for a child, but Alex had seemed happy to receive it.

“Have a drink with me, good Will. Maria bought some whiskey today while we were out. I’m not sure if it is up to your usual standards, but I would value your company.”

If Hannibal had threatened to have another chat then Will would have declined, but the way that Hannibal worded it made it seem like he just wanted the pleasure of Will’s company. It was so easy to forget how alone Hannibal had been for so long.

“I’m not much of a drinker anymore,” Will said, but didn’t pull his hand from Hannibal’s as they made their way to the room that they’d sat in the previous evening. Once again, Hannibal lit a fire and stood over it as it flared into life.

After a few moments he went to fetch two whiskeys. He passed a generous measure to Will and then sat down opposite him.

“I doubt,” Hannibal said, regarding his whiskey in the firelight, “That I have ever had a happier day than I had today. Certainly I cannot remember doing so as an adult. It is difficult to realise how fragile happiness can be. In one day I have learned both happiness and fear.” 

Will snorted. He’d spent years living in almost perpetual fear and he refused to empathise with Hannibal just because he’d felt something that everyone else on the planet had to deal with. Hannibal had finally learned that by loving things one opened up the possibility of losing them and he was afraid. He took a sip of his drink to hide his annoyance.

The whiskey burned his mouth in a way that he remembered he used to enjoy. The fire crackled and Will took another gulp. There was a time, before Alex, when he’d get drunk every night, trying to chase Jack Crawford’s demons out of his head so that he could sleep. He hadn’t needed to drink like that for years now. His limbs felt looser and he let himself relax into the chair. 

Hannibal refilled his glass and sat down opposite him again, watching WIll silently. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth and he wanted to talk.

“When I was a kid, do you know what my biggest fear was?”

Hannibal didn’t move as he waited patiently for Will to continue.

“There was a mirror, in the hall, in between my bedroom and the washroom and I’d get up in the night and creep down the corridor. I wasn’t scared of the dark, or anything in the dark, like all the other kids. I didn’t care about ghosts or ninjas or spiders. I was scared, every time, I walked past that mirror that I wouldn’t have a reflection. That I’d look into it and just see an empty reflection of the hallway.” 

“What do think that means, Will?”

Will put his glass down, feeling pleasantly numb. He wasn’t going to answer such an obvious question. Hannibal would have to do better than that to get him to talk.

“Your empathy disorder manifested itself at young age.”

“I’m not sure that empathy is ever a disorder, Dr Lecter,” Will snorted. Hannibal smiled lazily at him. Will had been so easily convinced that his empathy was a disorder when Hannibal had first diagnosed him, but he knew now that that had just been another of Hannibal’s manipulations, another way of undermining him and making him feel dependent on Hannibal. 

In front of others, and to Jack Crawford, Hannibal had only ever praised Will’s empathy, saying how intriguing it was, how useful it was. But he’d told Will that his empathy was a disorder, a disease to be wary of so that Will had started to second guess his every thought until he drove himself half-insane. 

Will picked up his glass and downed it. There was more in there than he’d thought and he spluttered slightly. What sort of man was he, that he could look at all the things that Hannibal had done to him and yet still love the man?

“You were hoping that someone hurt Alex today. You want to kill again and you want my permission to do it.” 

Hannibal’s legs crossed smoothly.

“Your blessing rather than your permission, Will. I have been locked away for a long time and I am hungry. Do you still fear those darkened mirrors?”

“No. But that doesn’t stop me from double checking that I have a reflection every time I walk past one.”

He stood, but his body was less coordinated than it should be and it suddenly came to him that he was drunk. He hadn’t been drunk in ages; it used to take him an awful lot more than two glasses of good whiskey. 

Hannibal was sitting so still, just watching him, preying on him. Would he even try to catch him if he fell?

“Hannibal,” Will whined, his thoughts distressing him. 

“Come here, my darling,” Hannibal said, his accent seemed thick and his voice deeper as Will stumbled towards him. The endearment felt so good; he wanted Hannibal to call him ‘darling’ again. He wanted to be _Hannibal’s_ darling. He reached out for Hannibal’s outstretched hand, but then Hannibal pulled and Will was falling. The world tumbled around him and then stopped. He was on Hannibal’s lap. His cheek rested against Hannibals’ chest as strong arms held him in place. 

He felt so small in Hannibal’s arms.

Hannibal smelled so clean and masculine. The same soap that Will had found in the shower overlain with rich cologne. Laundry detergent and the lingering traces of the ingredients that Hannibal had cooked supper with. Will wanted to stay just here, where he was safe and never move again. He wanted Hannibal to just hold on to him and never let go, never kill anyone else. If he could just devote himself to loving Will and their son then everything would be perfect. 

He pressed his face into Hannibal’s neck, trying to hold on to the moment and make this feeling last a little longer. He could be happy like this, forever more. 

One of Hannibal’s hands carded though his hair and Will felt himself drift away. His forehead rubbed against Hannibal’s jaw.

“How come I’ve never seen you shave?” Will giggled quietly. 

“If you want to see that then you’ll have to get up earlier, my love. I could shave you too. Would you like that?” Hannibal asked, tracing the side of his finger along Will’s throat in imitation of a blade. It felt like a caress.

“Alex wouldn’t recognise me without my beard,” Will said into Hannibal’s neck, but Hannibal just drew another line along his throat. “How many people have you killed with a razor across their throats?”

Hannibal sighed as if Will’s gaucheness had ruined a romantic moment, but Will was too relaxed and happy to care. 

“A few. It is rather lacking artistry but sometimes there is a need for butchery.”

“If you kill me, don’t do it like that. How would you kill me?” Will felt like he was dreaming, that he was in some netherworld where Hannibal freely discussed his kills. Hannibal kissed his forehead softly.

“Have I not already shown that I would never kill you?”

“But, if you had to,” Will struggled slightly, he wanted to look Hannibal in the face. He wanted him to know that this was a valid question but the arms that held him were too tight and he couldn’t get away. He stopped struggling because he didn’t truly want to move.

“No, Will. I would incapacitate you, an injury that would only kill you if left unattended, never a death blow.”

Will smiled. It was a sweet thing for a serial killer, who could, and possibly had, murdered countless people without mercy or doubt, to say. He kissed the soft flesh of Hannibal’s neck.

“Are you saying you never meant to kill me?” Will smiled softly, not believing a word of it.

“Never. If I had known you were pregnant at the time I would have only broken a leg. Or perhaps an ankle.”

Wil kissed his neck again, this time sucking the skin into his mouth. It was a kind lie. Hannibal tilted his head back, exposing more of his neck. Having Hannibal so close was making him horny. He sucked more kisses on to Hannibal’s strong neck and raised a hand to comb through his hair. His fingers loosened the hold of Hannibal’s hair products and his hair slipped free under Wills fingers. 

Will smiled and sucked harder. He felt like a lamb nuzzling at a wolf and, with that thought, he sobered. He shouldn’t be doing this with Hannibal, the man was a monster. He _couldn’t_ do this with Hannibal, not while he was still fertile.

He tried to stand, but the world was swimming around him and Hannibal was his only anchor.

“I have to go to bed,” Will moaned in Hannibal’s ear, trying to get him to release him. But Hannibal’s grip remained as strong as ever. Instead, he stood, still holding on to Will and carried him from the room and up the stairs. If Will had been in a state to care he would have been embarrassed that he was a grown man being carried up to bed like a child. It was ridiculous that he was being put to bed just like Alex had been that afternoon. As it was, he vaguely noticed that this was something that he should care about and then dismissed the thought. It felt so good to have someone do this for him. 

Hannibal lay him on the bed and undressed him, slowly and meticulously rolling his body and lifting limbs to remove each item of clothing until Will was completely naked. 

“I’ll make sure you always have a reflection, my darling. I promise you.”

Will smiled happily, he was warm and tired and Hannibal was nearby.


	8. Chapter 8

_Hannibal was inside him, his cock sliding slowly in and out of Will’s ass, fucking him more gently than he would have thought Hannibal capable of. His breath caught in his throat and he pushed his ass back, trying to take more of Hannibal inside him. He could feel Hannibal so completely; the scratch of his chest hair against Will’s back, the veins of his cock as it pushed into his hole. He was complete. With Hannibal inside him, he was whole._

_“More,” he whimpered, his voice unrecognisable as he urged Hannibal on. Hot lips kissed the back of his neck while heavy hands explored his body. Hannibal was everywhere; around him and inside him._

_“Please, Hann - “ Will gasped, cut off as blunt fingers twisted his nipples cruelly. It was too hard, it hurt. The pain and the pleasure almost indistinguishable._

_“My darling,” Hannibal whispered softly into his ear, “I’ve waited so long to see you like this again. To feel you like this again.” Hannibal thrust into him viciously and Will screamed at the sudden onslaught._

_The arms that held him down were vibrating, buzzing against his chest. He looked down and saw, despite the darkness of the bedroom, that there was something wrong with Hannibal’s arms. The skin was cracking and breaking apart._

_“Hannibal?” Will could still feel him inside him, still fucking him but there was no heavy weight against his back. He turned slowly, rolling over in the bed and for a brief second he saw Hannibal, glorious and naked above him. Then he seemed to shatter, his body dissolving into thousands of flying pieces. They were flies. Hannibal’s whole body had been made of flies. He could feel them inside his ass, where Hannibal’s beautiful cock had been. They were squirming inside him, trying to get out. Above him the swarm of flies buzzed. They were just flies now and Will had no idea how they had ever looked human. The buzzing was so loud and it was getting louder and louder, drowning out his thoughts, until it reached a fever pitch._

_Will screamed, but he couldn’t hear himself over the buzzing of the flies. They were everywhere, around him and inside him. Crawling into his mouth as he screamed his horror.  
_

“Will?”

He opened his eyes. He was in bed and Hannibal was sitting up in bed next to him with his bedside lamp on. Hannibal’s bare chest was above the duvet and he looked just as muscled and sculpted as he had at the beginning of Will’s dream.

Will panted, letting his eyes adjust to the light before he shook his head, keeping silent. If he opened his mouth he would scream. The dream was too fresh in his mind and he didn’t want to look at Hannibal right now. Not after what he’d just seen. 

“Would you like some water?” Hannibal asked solicitously. Will wished he could hate the way that Hannibal did that, the way that he made Will feel so wanted, so precious. He remembered all those nights in Wolf Trap, before he’d met Hannibal, before he’d had Alex, when he used to suffer such terrible nightmares. He’d wake covered in sweat and surrounded by the comfort of his dogs. He’d thought that they were all he’d ever need, but he’d been wrong. 

“No,” he muttered, shaking his head as he found his voice. He let out a shallow cough. “I’ll be fine.”

“Your hands are shaking,” Hannibal said, pulling back the covers and standing up. He was naked, but Will averted his eyes. “Come with me.”

Will let Hannibal guide him out of bed and into their bathroom. He leaned against the counter, his hip cocked out as Hannibal ran the faucet and wet a washcloth. He wrung it out fastidiously and then turned to Will, putting a finger under Will’s chin so that he was forced to look up at Hannibal’s face. 

The damp cloth woke him up, but it felt clean against his skin. He wasn’t sure that it was making him feel any better. Being the focus of Hannibal’s attention, having the man get out of bed and care for him after a bad dream, did feel good. Will shivered and realized that he was naked too; after the horror of his dream his nudity seemed unimportant.

“You don’t have to do this.”

Hannibal silenced him by wiping the washcloth over his lips.

“I am exactly where I wish to be. Do you feel better?”

Will nodded and Hannibal smiled softly, but the sight sickened Will.

“I’m going to check on Alex. Make sure he’s asleep.” Will said. He wasn’t ready to get back into bed with Hannibal, but Hannibal seemed to understand his reluctance and silently handed him a bath robe. It felt soft and plush against his skin. Hannibal put a robe on as well, although Will would have preferred to visit Alex by himself. He couldn’t imagine getting back into bed with Hannibal feeling as he did now; he’d been thinking that he might stay with Alex for the rest of the night. Nevertheless, he kept silent as Hannibal followed him to Alex’s bedroom. Hannibal turned on the light in the hallway so that Will could see the way more clearly. 

Alex’s bedroom door creaked slightly as Will pushed it open. The shutters hadn’t been closed in this bedroom and Will could make out a child-sized lump on the bed by the dim light coming in through the window. There was a comforting rhythmic rumbling sound of childish snores. Will relaxed slightly, the tension and feelings of disgust that had remained from his bad dream ebbed away. Hannibal put an arm around his shoulders and Will allowed it by not flinching away.

“He is our son, the best of both of us, made into one,” Hannibal’s voice was warm in his ear. Will turned away, going into the hallway so he didn’t disturb Alex as his anger flared at Hannibal’s comment. 

“What part of you do you think _isn’t_ your best part? You’re a narcissist!” Will hissed, trying to keep his voice down. Hannibal shut Alex’s bedroom with a soft click.

“I am fallible, Will. I make mistakes. I misjudge situations. I hurt you, when I needn’t. You would never have told Jack Crawford the truth about me.” 

Hannibal was standing too close to him, and Will shivered, remembering his vivid dream; remembering the way that Hannibal’s sculpted face had dissolved. 

“So, what? You didn’t _need_ to hurt me that time, but next time you might _need_ to hurt me? Is that it?”

Hannibal looked startled and it took Will a second to understand why. He’d been expecting Will to deny what he’d said and to claim that he would have told Jack Crawford the truth about Hannibal. Will pursed his lips. He could never be sure that he would have told Jack. It was a truth the he’d spent years trying to forgive himself for, it was pointless to deny that. 

“All I want, my darling, is for the three of us to find happiness as a family.”

He looked so earnest that Will was sure that he was telling the truth. Will looked away from Hannibal’s soulful maroon eyes and the sharp edges of his cheekbones. Will’s gaze settled on Hannibal’s neck. He’d kissed that patch of skin just a few hours earlier. He could still feel the way that soft skin felt against his lips; the taste of Hannibal’s skin on his tongue.

“I know,” Will muttered, feeling awkward. He scratched his arm, hiking up the sleeve of the robe. “Why is it that I have to be the one to change? Why do I have to just accept you? Why can’t you just stop? Why can’t you change for me? For us?” Will’s quiet hiss rose steadily, until by the time he asked his last question, he realized he was being far too loud. He didn’t wait for Hannibal’s answer; he shoved past him, banging Hannibal’s shoulder as he marched back to their bedroom. 

The robe that had felt so soft when he’d first put it on, now felt too hot. He tugged angrily at the knot which held the robe closed. His head felt strange and his stomach uneasy. The alcohol was still in his system and it was making him feel odd. 

“Will,” Hannibal said in a level tone. “I have never - “

“Don’t!” Will interrupted. He didn’t want to hear Hannibal’s manipulations and he was embarrassed at his own behavior, he hoped that he hadn’t woken Alex up. Will remembered his own childhood and being jolted from sleep by the screaming matches of his own parents. He’d always hated that; he’d always believed that it was his fault that his parents were arguing and Will couldn’t stand the thought of Alex being similarly burdened. “Did I wake Alex?”

“Sasha is fine,” Hannibal took off his robe and lay down on the bed; his arms spread wide in a silent invitation for Will to join him. The light from the bedside lamp cast shadows along Hannibal’s body, highlighting his sculptured muscles. Will had had so little experience with his own sexuality before Hannibal, but now he couldn’t look away from the man. His soft cock lay surrounded by light pubic hair and framed by his powerful thighs. Will could imagine the force of those thighs, the way those well-defined muscles would stretch and contract when Hannibal was fucking him. Hannibal’s body reminded Will of the perfection of a Greek statue, not of some lithe young man but of a powerful Zeus or Heracles. He was all strength and mature experience.

It was so easy to forget what a monster Hannibal really was when he looked so alluring. 

“I don’t want to argue in front of him,” Will said with a frown. Hannibal was uncircumcised and his cock thickened, rising slowly as Will continued looking at him. 

“Nor do I, Will. You know that we will make excellent parents. Now come to bed, there are still a few hours before dawn.”

“I won’t fall asleep again,” Will said, not moving.

“Then lie down next to me and rest.”

He was wide awake and it was pointless to get back into bed. He wasn’t sure what else he could do though. The thought of making his way through the darkened house so that he could go and watch TV by himself was unappealing. Will slunk to his side of the bed.

“Turn the light out,” Will said, finally undoing the knot of his robe, but keeping it wrapped around him so that Hannibal couldn’t see him naked. It felt a little ridiculous and missish. Hannibal had seen him naked already but Hannibal obeyed him without comment. With the room dark, Will stripped and got back into bed.

Hannibal sighed heavily and rolled over to embrace Will, arranging him so that Will’s back was pressed to his chest. His semi-hard cock pressed against Will’s ass.

“Would you like a bedtime story too?”

Will snorted. It was such an ugly sound. He traced his fingers over Hannibal’s hand as they held him in place. 

“I used to lie in Chilton’s cell and think of you, my love. I would imagine you just like this, relaxed and naked in my arms.”

The sentiment was so similar to what Hannibal had said in Will’s dream that it made him flinch.

“Stop,” he whispered, not sure what was really disturbing him; the vivid dream, or the fact that he could so easily predict what Hannibal was going to say. That his mind was already empathising with Hannibal so much that he knew what Hannibal was going to say before he said it.

Hannibal’s arms tightened around him briefly and then relaxed. 

“Would you like to tell me about your dream?”

Will shook his head automatically. He had been reluctant to share any of his dreams with Hannibal, but that seemed silly now. Hannibal was his family; they certainly had issues but Will knew he would never willingly leave the man. What harm was there in telling him about his dream? He’d told Hannibal what he’d dreamed of the previous night and he’d felt better for it.

“Chilton, I guess. Kinda.” The dream had starred Hannibal, but the flies had definitely been a reminder of how Chilton had been killed. Hannibal hummed softly. The noise vibrated in his chest and Will could feel the vibrations against his back, as if they were made of only one body. 

“You don’t think he deserved to die?”

Will remembered what it felt like to be a cop back in New Orleans. Taking a life had seemed like an enormous burden back then. The one time that he should have shot a man he hadn’t been able to. He’d hesitated for too long, too concerned with the injury that he might inflict on a fellow human being. His hesitation had meant that the man had time to attack him and Will had ended up with a knife in his shoulder. He’d been so concerned with not taking a life that he had risked his own. It seemed so long ago now. 

“No-one deserves to die,” he whispered furiously.

“You don’t truly believe that. You haven’t believed that since the day you met me and understood the difference between predator and prey.”

As Hannibals strong arms wrapped around him it was so easy to concede the existence of predators. How could he blame Hannibal for his nature? Will closed his eyes and let himself enjoy the squeeze of Hannibal’s muscles around him. He dozed, not quite falling asleep for the rest of the night. He finally stirred when Hannibal got up and opened the shutters. Bright sunlight streamed into the room and Will wished Hannibal would come back to bed. He felt cold without him. Somehow Hannibal didn’t seem at all intimidated by his own nudity as he moved around the bedroom without any trace of self-consciousness. Will, still tucked underneath the covers, watched him move; the way his soft cock swayed with each step he took.

“Shower with me,” Hannibal said, his tone only slightly too demanding to be a question. 

“Alright,” Will agreed, not getting out of bed. Hannibal’s early morning nudity didn’t seem as sexual as it had last night. Rather, it spoke of a comfortable familiarity, a domesticness, that Will had never experienced before. Hannibal left the bathroom door open and Will heard the shower being turned on. The water splashed loudly against the glass of the shower stall and then quietened. Hannibal must have already stepped under the stream of water. 

Will got out of bed. He still wasn’t used to the coldness of the tiles against his feet in the mornings. Next time he went shopping he’d have to remember to buy some slippers. His robe from last night was on the ground next to his side of the bed and he put it on. 

Steam from Hannibal’s hot shower was already making the air damp in the bedroom and Will hurried into the bathroom. The shower stall had been been closed, but Will knew that Hannibal was waiting for him; his senses would be straining to keep track of Will’s movements despite the loudness off the shower and the frosting of the glass.

It was impossible to undress. His hands didn’t want to move. He could feel his shoulders hunching over as he hovered, unsure of himself. Getting into the shower with Hannibal would please the man so much, and he wanted to see Hannibal smile. He wanted to trace with his hands the muscles that he’d seen last night. He wanted to tangle his fingers in the smattering of hair across Hannibal’s chest. But if he did then he would be justifying everything that Hannibal did. He would be conceding that Hannibal was free to kill and to cannibalize. Although he had already agreed that Hannibal could kill anyone that harmed Alex, getting into the shower felt like too much. He’d lain all night in Hannibal’s arms, but that had been so much easier than this. All he’d had to do then was lie in the darkness and let Hannibal hold him. Now he had to step forward, he had to choose this, rather than let it happen to him. 

“I’ll shower after,” Will called out. Leaving the bathroom he felt like he was running away. Hannibal must have showered very quickly, because Will had only been standing at the window, looking out over the rooftops, for a few minutes, when Hannibal returned. He put an arm around Will’s waist and rubbed his cheek against Will’s temple. The hair of Hannibal’s morning stubble prickled his skin. Will laughed, pulling away to look at Hannibal’s face in the light. The stubble looked strange on him and Will put his hand up to touch it; it was as coarse as any man’s would be. It didn’t suit Hannibal at all, and Will decided he rather liked seeing his Hannibal like this. This was not the polished face that he presented to the world. This was just for Will. 

“You should have showered with me,” Hannibal said, his voice still gravelly with sleep. “Then you could have played with my stubble to your heart’s content. How are you going to make it up to me?”

Will smiled, enjoying Hannibal flirt. 

“What do you want?”

“I’ve been thinking about what we discussed last night,” Hannibal tilted his head so that his cheek fell into Will’s hand. “I would like to shave you, my love.”

Will frowned and pulled his hand away. 

“I don’t look good without a beard.”

“I cannot imagine there is anything you could do that would stop you from looking beautiful.”

Will felt his face redden and pulled away. He knew that Hannibal meant the words that he was saying, but they seemed ridiculous. Will knew that he was not beautiful. It was only as he got under the shower, a few seconds later, that he realized how odd his reasoning had been. He should be screaming in fear that Hannibal the Cannibal, the man who had all but eviscerated him, wanted to put a razor to his throat; but Will wasn’t in the least bit scared anymore. He scrubbed his beard, lathering it with shampoo. Perhaps he would let Hannibal shave it off; after all, Will didn’t really care and it was something that Hannibal seemed to really want to do. 

Will turned off the shower and stepped out into the bathroom, but Hannibal was in there too. He was standing in front of the sink, watching Will in the bathroom mirror. Will yelped in surprise and backed into the shower stall.

“My apologies, Will, I assumed you knew I was here. I had just finished shaving,” Hannibal said, not looking away from him. There was a straight razor on the bathroom counter, inches away from Hannibal’s hand. Now that Will had seen it, he couldn’t look away. It glinted, catching the light like a diamond. 

Will cupped one hand over his crotch and reached out with his other to grab a towel, wrapping himself up and hiding his wet body as best he could. Most men would fasten a towel around their hips, but Will didn’t want Hannibal looking at his stomach, so he pulled the towel up and secured it just below his nipples. Hannibal didn’t comment on his strange behavior. 

“You can do it, you can shave me, I mean, if that’s what you want,” Will said, grabbing another towel from the rack and pulling it around his shoulders. “Just let me get dressed first.”

Hannibal’s reflection smiled widely at him, but when he turned to face Will it was with an air of sadness. 

“I’m afraid we don’t have time anymore. Sasha needs to be taken care of, he needs some breakfast before we start his lessons. I would hate to disappoint him when he seemed so excited for his lessons to begin.”

“Oh,” Will scratched his neck, his beard itching uncomfortable, “Yeah, sure, alright.” He frowned, feeling slightly disappointed. He hadn’t even wanted to be shaved, but now he was annoyed that Hannibal wouldn’t shave him. “Another time?”

Hannibal stepped towards him and kissed him on the cheek, moving away before Will had time to protest. 

“I will look forward to it,” Hannibal said lightly, leaving him alone to get ready for the day. When he came downstairs there was a coffee waiting for him in the kitchen and Alex was glowing with excitement. 

“Morning, Ale - , Sasha, are you ready for your big day?” Will asked, kissing the top of his son’s head. Alex grinned up at him, nodding happily. 

“I’m gonna have lessons with Papa, and then, after lunch, we’ll read together, like we do in Florida.”

“Yeah?” Will asked. Hannibal slid a plate of food in front of Will; his arm lingering and holding onto Will from behind. Alex was watching them closely. He patted Hannibal’s hand where it rested on his upper arm. “Protein scramble for me and pastries for Sasha?”

“I could make you something else if you would prefer it,” Hannibal demurred, his voice low as he spoke straight into Will’s ear. The chunks of meat in Will’s breakfast were, he knew, the remains of butchered Italian. After already consuming so much of the man it seemed ridiculous to care about that now.

“It’s fine. I just didn’t realize there was so much... Meat to be used.”

Hannibal’s hand tightened briefly and then slid up his arm to the back of his neck.

“You would be amazed at the uses a skilled chef can find even for the most paltry of animals.”

He tilted his head back to look at Hannibal’s face and laughed. This, right now, was happiness, it was family and love and a home for Alex. His previous objections seemed so insignificant. In the morning light everything seemed simpler. Will sipped his coffee. It was at the perfect temperature. Just like everything that Hannibal made, it was just right. 

“No-one would doubt that you are a skilled chef, Doctor Lecter,” Will grinned, smiling wider still as he saw the skin around Hannibal’s eyes crinkle. 

“Dr Fell,” Hannibal corrected him. Will speared a piece of meat with his fork and, when he was sure that Hannibal’s eyes were on him, he put the meat in his mouth. Hannibal’s greedy eyes watched him avidly. Will swallowed slowly, letting the taste of the Italian linger in his mouth. It was worth it for the look of adoration that Hannibal gave him. 

Hannibal pulled away to fetch himself a plate of food and the three of them at in silence, Alex watching both of his parents. He seemed fascinated by the relationship between his parents. Will ducked his head, suddenly uncomfortable with Alex’s scrutiny. It made him think of the hours he’d spent as a child, an unwilling spectator to his parents failing marriage. How much of his own social awkwardness, his own inability to form romantic relationships, had been because his parents had been such an horrific example for him? 

By the time they’d finished eating, and the plates had been put in the sink, Alex’s attention had been diverted. He was practically vibrating with excitement as the time for his first lesson drew near. . 

“Are we going to start now?” Alex asked, already backing out of the kitchen.

“Of course, I hope you will always be so eager for our lessons together,” Hannibal said lightly. “We will set aside one room to use as a classroom,” Hannibal put his hand on the top of Alex’s head and guided him out of the kitchen and down the hallway. Will followed them to the kitchen door, watching the way that Alex leaned into Hannibal’s touch. 

“This room will be our classroom,” Hannibal said, opening a door to room that Will thought was a home office. Alex asked something in an excited voice, but they were too far down the hallway and Will couldn’t make out the words.

He sat back down to finish his coffee, not sure what to do with himself. He could hear the low thrum of Hannibal’s voice as he lectured Alex. If they were in Florida then Will would have known exactly what to do. He would be going through his normal morning routine. There would have been chores to be seen to; cleaning and cooking and laundry and boats to be fixed. Alex would have been by his side, tagging along with that quietly content look on his face. 

The morning stretched ahead of him, entirely empty without Alex or even Hannibal. He should, he supposed, start investigating how to get sterilised. He had no idea how the Italian healthcare system worked. What he needed was access to the internet, or maybe he could get to a tourist information centre and find out there how he could get procedure done quickly. As it seemed like Hannibal was going to be busy with Alex during the mornings, Will would definitely have enough time to himself to organize his treatment. 

He was loath to disturb the two of them, but the class room door was open wide and he could see Hannibal sitting at his desk. As Will watched, Alex came to stand next to Hannibal, leaning close to his Papa as Hannibal drew something on the piece of paper in front of him. 

“Very good, Sasha,” Will heard Hannibal say softly as he drew closer to the classroom door. “Now, where do you think it is darkest?”

“Hmm,” Alex cocked his head as he considered. Will knocked lightly on the open door, Hannibal and Alex looked up at him. They looked so similar as they studied together that Will had to stop himself from bursting out laughing. 

“Sorry, I don’t want to disturb you, but,” Will hesitated. Hannibal might react negatively to what he wanted to do, “I need to get online. I haven’t seen a computer anywhere.”

Hannibal continued to look at him blankly, while Alex’s attention returned to Hannibal’s drawing as he decided that Will wasn’t talking to him. 

“You are very welcome to interrupt our lessons, Will, and you are always free to join us. I will be happy to assist you, after our lesson is finished.”

Hannibal turned away, dismissing Will. He gritted his teeth. Hannibal’s refusal to help him spoke volumes about how little he trusted Will and it annoyed him. What indication had he given Hannibal that he would betray him and their son? Just because Will abhorred unnecessary killing that did not mean that he would jeopardise his family by reporting Hannibal to the authorities. Will supposed he could start walking around Florence, trying to find a Tourist Information and asking directions from anyone who looked like they spoke English. 

“Can I borrow your watch? I want to go out and I need to know what time to be back.”

Hannibal stiffened, but Alex spoke up before he could reply.

“Here, it’s darkest here, because the lights can’t get to it.”

“Very good, Sasha, you have a good eye,” Hannibal undid the clasp of the watch on his wrist and slid it over his hand. “As you wish, Will. You will need this too.” Hannibal took a small key from his pocket and handed it Will. It was the key to unlock the padlock on the gate. 

“Daddy? You’re leaving?” Alex frowned at him, as he suddenly understood what was happening. 

“Just for a little bit, I’ll be back soon.”

Alex did not look reassured. He glanced between Will and Hannibal, clearly hoping his Papa would intervene, but Hannibal was silent. 

“How soon?” Alex demanded, folding his arms in front of him. Hannibal reached out and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. 

“There is no need to worry, Sasha. Your Daddy will be back by the time we have finished drawing.”

Will hesitated. That would only give him forty minutes to explore. It wasn’t much time, but at least Hannibal wasn’t making a fuss about him going out or using the internet. The worried expression on Alex’s face was enough to convince Will that he shouldn’t be gone longer than forty minutes anyway. 

“Yeah, and when I come back you can show me your drawing. OK?”

Alex swallowed, unfolding his arms. Will bent down and pulled Alex to him, feeling as his son slowly put his arms around him. 

“Don’t worry, Sasha,” Will said into Alex’s hair, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

He pulled back and saw that Alex’s little face was twisted with worry. 

“Don’t get kidnapped, Daddy. Don’t...”

Alex sounded so forlorn that Will almost changed his mind about leaving. 

“I won’t, I promise. Goodbye, Alex.”

Will cast a worried look at Hannibal, who seemed to understand. He put his hand back on Alex’s shoulder, calming him and drawing him back to their project. Alex glared down at the paper for a second, before relaxing. 

It felt strange to leave Alex but, Will realized as he got ready to go, he had complete confidence in Hannibal. He had already proved that he was capable of getting Alex out of his shell. The trauma of Alex’s kidnap had not been addressed and Hannibal was, no matter what else, a highly competent psychologist. He could help Alex, if he chose to. 

The padlock on the gate was stiff and Will hesitated before locking it behind him. Hannibal hardly needed the protection of a rusty padlock, but he clicked the lock shut anyway. He walked down the street in the same direction that Hannibal had led them before, recognizing buildings until the road widened and the number of pedestrians increased. 

He found himself, with no clear idea of where he should go, simply retracing the path that Hannibal had taken them on yesterday. Will paused, arrested once again by the poster of the missing Italian, his smirking face leering at Will. There was something almost primal in looking at the dead man’s photograph, in knowing that he and Hannibal had bested this man. Will blushed and turned away. Surely that wasn’t how normal people were supposed to feel?

There was loud yell from behind him and Will turned to see the same man that had approached him yesterday hurrying towards him again. For a second he considered just running away. He was so exposed and alone and completely unable to communicate. The man was already upon him though, grabbing at his arm and gushing in rapid Italian. 

“I don’t,” Will muttered, looking around and trying to get away from the man that was clinging to him. “I don’t understand.”

“Si!” the man said happily, turning to wave another person towards them. An old women, swathed in black, hobbled over. She was bent over and it looked like every step was causing her pain. Her grey hair was tucked beneath a black headscarf and she eyed Will with distrust.

“You speak English?” she asked, peering at Will. Her top lip was lined with vertical wrinkles that pulled together making her looking perpetually angry. 

“Uh, yeah. What’s he saying?” Will gestured at the man who had grabbed hold of him. The man released him with a grin, stepping away from Will and the old woman with a self-satisfied air. “He keeps on talking to me, but I don’t speak Italian.”

“Is OK. I speak English very well. I lived many years in London. You know this man?” she asked, her eyes gleaming as she pointed a lumpy finger at the poster of the dead Italian. Her hand was twisted with arthritis making it look more like a claw than a human hand. 

Will shook his head, his eyes fixed on that malformed hand. The young man slouched, looking away as if he were suddenly bored despite his previous enthusiasm.

“No, I don’t know him. I was just looking,” Will backed away, but the old woman followed him, her back straightening and making her look far less decrepit than she had seconds before. Her sharp claws latched onto his arm. 

“He’s my Nino, my baby, my grandson.”

Will chanced a look at her watery eyes; the whites were yellowed with age and grief. 

“I’m sorry,” Will tugged his arm from her grip but she caught hold of his sleeve. “I can’t help you.”

“Please, Signore. My son is dead, all I have in the world are my two grandsons, and now, he is gone. My sweet Nino. He telephoned me from the airport, but he never come home. You are tourist, maybe you see him there, yes? At the airport?”

“No!” Will threw a panicked glance at the Italian who must be her other grandchild. But the man just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t concerned about his missing brother. He just wanted to appease his annoying grandmother. He was a busy man, who thought highly of himself. His excitement at finding Will was all for the old woman’s benefit, now the man just wanted to go home. Will could read his boredom in every line of his body, his lack of concern over his brother. 

Will backed away, hating this situation; he couldn’t stand to look at her, old and frail but so determined and full of grief and anger. 

“I can’t help you,” Will repeated, finally backing far enough away that the old woman had to release her grip, but he was too far away for her to grab again. Hannibal could lie so smoothly; falsehoods dropping his mouth with such ease but Will could feel himself becoming flustered under the old woman’s piercing stare. His hands fidgeted in front of him. Hannibal’s watch was heavy on his wrist as his fingers played with it nervously. 

Will caught sight of the time, realizing suddenly just how long he’d been away from the house. 

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. My son…” Will trailed off. The old women watched him coldly. There was nothing he could say to her, no way to alleve her misery or her anger. Will turned and hurried back the way he’d came. He’d barely had a chance to look for the Tourist Information. 

When he turned on to their street he saw Alex, waiting for him with the gate open. Will grinned and waved but Alex didn’t run to greet him. Will, worried by his son’s lack of enthusiasm, hurried along the street. His foot steps were loud on the cobbled street and echoed oddly. Except it wasn’t an echo. Someone was walking behind him. 

The old woman had followed him, although he had no idea how she managed to keep up with him. She was so bent over that WIll wasn’t sure how she could even see him. Will gaped in surprise and hurried to where Alex was waiting for him. 

His son threw his arms around him as soon as Will stepped into the yard. Hannibal must have told him not to set foot onto the street. He patted Alex’s head distractedly, too worried about the old woman to give Alex the attention he deserved. 

“Daddy?”

Will slammed the gate closed before answering him. 

“Hey, Sasha. Did you have a good time with your Papa?”

There was a hole in the metal of the gate so that the padlock could be accessed from either side. He snapped the padlock shut and took Alex inside. Surely the old woman would leave him alone now he was home. Will let out a sigh of relief as he took Alex’s hand and walked him back to the house. 

“Will you let me see your drawing? Did you draw your seagull?”

Alex shook his head.

“My cigarette holder. Papa put it up on the fridge and he taught me about shading. It makes drawing really difficult cos you have to keep thinking about where the sun is.”

Hannibal was waiting for them by the open front door and Will, still distracted by thoughts of the old woman, handed him his watch back silently. Hannibal must have been watching Alex while the boy stood in the gateway. 

“Well, I’m going to go look at it,” Will declared, making Alex grin happily. Hannibal watched them go with a look of amused curiosity. 

There, taped to the front of the fridge was a of Alex’s second drawing. It was a pencil sketch of the amber cigarette holder that Hannibal had given him and it was the best thing that his son had ever drawn. Will blinked at in astonishment, smiling slowly as he swelled with pride. Next to it, Hannibal had drawn up a schedule for their classes; each day of the week divided up into forty-five minute lessons with breaks in between each class and an hour for lunch and an hour’s reading time set aside each afternoon, just after lunch. Will glanced at it briefly and saw that most of the time blocks had been left empty, and then his gaze returned to Alex’s picture.

“Sasha,” he didn’t even try hide the wonder in his voice, “It’s beautiful.”

Alex eyed the picture critically.

“I’m gonna do it again. Did you know Papa can draw? He’s really really good. He drew it too and it was a million times better. He let me keep his picture too. It’s upstairs if you want to see it.”

“Maybe later, Sasha. This is, this is really good.” He got down on his knees and hugged Alex properly. “I’m so proud of you Alex. You’re so clever.”

A bell clanged, loud and angry and far too nearby. He realized with horror that it was the old women demanding entrance at the front gate. He hugged Alex tighter and hoped that Hannibal would deal with it. After all, he justified to himself, Hannibal spoke Italian. He would be able to communicate with her better, despite how good her English was. He heard the click of the front door and he knew that Hannibal had gone to talk to her.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Daddy.”

“Of course I’m safe. Alex,” he pulled back and tried to speak sternly. “I’m not in any danger, nor are you. There’s no need to worry.”

“There are mean people, Daddy. Like the bad lady that took me away, and the rude man at the airport. If you go out, you should take me or Papa with you.”

Will sighed. He didn’t understand how other parents coped. He felt like every answer that he could give Alex would just make him worry more. He knew that there were monsters in the world, and he couldn’t lie to Alex. He couldn’t even pretend that he wasn’t anxious right now as he thought about the Italian grandmother waiting outside for him.  
.  
“It’s true that there are bad people in the world. But I’m an adult and that means that I can look after myself. Anyway, why would anyone want to hurt me? OK? Now, what’s your next lesson?”

Alex gave him an exasperated look, clearly unconvinced by Will’s attempt to stop him worrying. 

“Math and times-tables.”

“Oh, you’re good at those. Do you remember any of the ones we used to practise? Maybe I should sit in on this class, would you like that?”

“No!” Alex looked down coyly. “Maybe next math class. I’m not gonna remember all the times-tables we learned. I’m sorry, Daddy.” 

“Alright, alright, but I’m sure you’ll do great.”

“Will,” Hannibal said, and Will looked round to see him looking at him blankly, his hands clasped in front of him in that way which had always made him look so trustworthy. As though there was no problem in the world that Hannibal could not solve. “Might I have a word? Sasha, our next lesson is due to start soon, would you wait for me in the classroom?”

Will stood slowly as Alex left without a backward glance.

“We have had a visitor.”

“Did you...?” Will scratched the back of his neck, “What did you say to her?”

“There was not much to be said. She was convinced that you knew her grandson, Nino Conti. He’s a local businessmen who has gone missing.”

Will noisily pulled one of the tall kitchen chairs towards him and sat down. It felt good to get off his feet. He scrubbed at his beard with one hand, rubbing at his face to shake off the memory of the old woman’s accusing eyes. 

“Perhaps it would be better if you remained at home for the rest of the day. She has obviously upset you.”

Will shook his head. He had to find out how to get sterilised in Italy. Maybe next time he’d just get into a taxi and ask to be taken to the hospital. 

“Will,” Hannibal said gently, putting his hand on Will’s shoulder. Will felt himself relax into the touch. He wished Hannibal would put his arms round him. “I have no wish to make you into a prisoner. We are laying the foundations of a life together here. If there is anything you need then I hope you feel able to come to me for assistance.”

Will lifted his hand to clasp the one on his shoulder and let his fingers slide in between Hannibal’s fingers. He squeezed Hannibal’s fingers gently but didn’t say a word. Hannibal would do anything for him, he would kill without hesitation, he would defend and protect Will as no-one in his life ever had before. He wanted Will as no-one had before. But he didn’t trust Hannibal. He couldn’t tell Hannibal that he was still fertile. 

Hannibal left him and Will got up and began exploring the house properly. Maria had cleaned all the rooms and the place had a more lived in feel now. If this was going to be his home then he wanted to know every inch of it. There would be no more asking Hannibal to help him find the lightswitch in the middle of the night. 

He lost track of time as he explored. Alex surprised him just after he entered a small bare room, the walls of which had been painted a gentle shade of blue. 

“Daddy! I finished my math lesson and - Oh! What’s this room for?” Alex darted past him to open a closet, revealing empty shelves. 

“I don’t know. We’ll have to think of something to do with it, won’t we? How was math? Did you remember your times tables?”

“Yeah,” Alex said peering at the empty closet shelves as if he suddenly expected something to appear. “But I preferred drawing. Next we’re gonna do science and geography and Italian and handwriting and…” Alex counted out the subjects on his fingers. 

“Wow, you’re going to be very busy! I hope you don’t forget about me.” Back in Florida, Will had been mentally preparing himself for the time when Alex would have to go to school. He knew that he wasn’t ready to be apart from his son for so many long hours during the day. Now that they were going to be homeschooling Alex, Will didn’t have to worry about that. 

“Never, Daddy!” Alex promised solemnly. 

“Good. How long do you have until your next lesson?”

“Uhm. I dunno. Papa wants me to drink milk before science.”

“Huh,” Will peered out of the window, he couldn’t see the street from here, but he wondered if the old woman was still outside, just waiting for him. “Well, that’s good. Milk’s good for your bones.”

Alex came to stand next to him, his face so close to the window pane that his breath made the glass mist. 

“I miss the sea. Do you think Papa wants to live in Florida?”

Will laughed, putting his arm round Alex’s shoulders. He couldn’t imagine Hannibal living in their little beach front house. The amount of sand that somehow made its way into the house everyday would have driven Hannibal insane. 

“Why don’t you ask him?”

Alex gave him a reproachful look that made Will laugh harder. 

“Go on, you don’t want to be late for your Papa, do you?”

Alex pulled away from him and left. His eagerness for his lessons with Hannibal apparently undiminished after two classes. Will wiped down the glass that Alex had misted and returned to his exploration of the house. Alex came to find him after his next lesson ended, staying with him only a few minutes before deciding it was time to get on with the next lesson. Finally it was lunch time. Will had expected that Hannibal would take this as an opportunity to cook, but was surprised when Alex came to tell him that their salad was ready. 

Alex’s science class had, apparently, been extremely entertaining. He chatted merrily over lunch, explaining to Will the experiment that he and Hannibal had conducted in their science class. Will smiled at his son’s exuberance as Hannibal preened. His pride at having captured his son’s interest so evident to Will.

After lunch Will and Alex went into the backyard to read. Someone had put cushions on the ornate stone bench that looked out over the yard, so that the two of them could make themselves comfortable. Alex sat close to Will, his knee nudging Will’s thigh as the boy spread his large hard-back book across his lap.

“Do you,” Alex began, looking down at his book, “Do you love Papa, Daddy?”

Will sat back and draped his arm on the bench behind Alex’s back.

“I love you, Sasha, very much, and Papa loves you too and that’s the only thing that matters.”

“Yeah,” Alex’s fingers trailed over his book, smoothing down the pages. It was a children’s encyclopedia with large text and brightly colored pictures that Alex traced with his finger. 

“What’s got you thinking about this, hmm?” he ruffled his son’s hair. It was longer than it had ever been, but usually Alex would ask Will to cut it for him whenever it got too long. Alex closed his book and lifted his chin to look Will full in the face. 

“Will Papa leave again? If you love him then he won’t leave.” Alex curled his arms around his book as if he thought he’d offended Will and need some sort of physical barrier between the two of them.

It pained Will to see Alex do such a thing and he took the book from Alex’s hands.

“Papa never wanted to leave us, baby. He just..” Will sighed in frustration. “He just couldn’t be with us before, but now that there’s nothing stopping him, we can be a family. He’ll never leave you again.”

Alex frowned and Will couldn’t read the expression in his son’s face. It was strange to look at someone and yet not understand them.

“Do you want to go back to Florida? We don’t have to stay with Han - with Papa.”

He recognised the surprise on Alex’s face at his suggestion. Will shuffled slightly, aware suddenly of how important Alex’s answer was. Will might lack the strength to leave Hannibal for his own sake, but it would be a very different situation if Alex wanted to leave. 

“No, I like living with Papa.”

Will smiled in relief although he hadn’t realized he’d been tense. 

“Yeah, yeah, I do too.” 

He handed Alex back his book and looked around the backyard. It wouldn’t take much work to fix it up. Most of the yard was paved and overgrown plants spewed forth from large clay pots making it feel like some forgotten place, like a remnant of a lost civilization that nature had reclaimed.. 

“We should get this yard cleaned up, yeah? You could play out here. Wouldn’t that be good?”

“I like it now,” Alex said, opening his book again. Will smiled and leaned over to see what they would be reading today. Alex moved the book away, blocking Will’s view. “No, Daddy. I’m gonna read to you.”

“Alright,” Will said lightly, leaning back. Alex was an intelligent boy and Will was sure his reading ability was far more advanced than other children his age. Nevertheless, Will knew that Alex would need help with some of the words. He tilted his head back and listened contentedly as Alex read, slowly and haltingly, from his book. 

After a while Alex’s voice cracked and Will stopped him with a hand on his knee. 

“Let’s stop a minute. Do you want some water?”

Alex coughed and frowned angrily down at his book. 

“Your reading’s very good, Sasha. I’m just worried about your voice. An hour is long time to be reading out loud. Why don’t you let me read to you for a bit?”

“OK, but..Can you read one of the books from the library? Papa said I could take anything that I could read and I want to read one that’s all about rabbits but its really, really long!”

“Sure, Alex, let’s learn about rabbits. You go and get it.”

Alex jumped down from the bench and ran inside, his little feet sounding loud on the tiled floor. 

“He loves you very much.”

Will started, turning round with a gasp. He had thought he was alone, but Hannibal was standing just behind the bench, although Will hadn’t seen him come outside. 

“Of course,” Will spat out. Just because Hannibal hadn’t loved his parents didn’t mean that Alex was incapable of love. Will picked up the cushion that Alex had been sitting on and fluffed it up again so that it would be comfortable for Alex when he returned. 

“Were your parents as affectionate with you as you are with Sasha?”

Will turned his back on Hannibal, looking out at the overgrown yard. His relationship with his own parents had been fraught and his empathy had only served to echo back their bitterness and disappointment at the lives they’d ended up with. 

“What about you? Are you treating Alex as your parents treated you?”

Hannibal moved to stand beside the bench, his crotch level with Will’s face. Will glanced up at Hannibal’s face, but it felt awkward to tilt his head that far back. It was such a petty and obvious display of dominance that Will looked away pointedly.

“My parents,” Hannibal began, crouching down so that he had to look up at Will’s face. It was an oddly submissive gesture, usually he only crouched at crime scenes, when he’d stoop to examine a corpse. “My parents were rather old fashioned. I had a nanny, who I was not fond of, but my parents were, by today’s standards, distant. In the evenings the nanny would get us ready to be presented to our parents and I would have to kiss them goodnight, but I might not have had any other interaction with them throughout the day.”

Hannibal’s face looked up at him, so earnest and yet so inhuman. Carved skin stretched over bone and dedicated to Will. This man was his to do whatever he wished with, as long as he accepted Hannibal completely. Will lifted his hand and stroked a finger along Hannibal’s bottom lip. It felt hot and alive and painfully real. 

In the distance he could hear Alex’s elephantine footsteps, hurrying back through the house. 

“I said I’d read to Alex,” Will said, without commenting on what Hannibal had told him. Beneath his finger Hannibal’s lip moved slightly, smiling, his mouth opening just enough that Will could feel the heat of Hannibal’s exhalation. 

“I got it!” Alex yelled happily, not seeming to care about Hannibal’s presence. 

“Oh,” Will cocked his head as Alex gave him the book and sat back on the bench with a little jump and a helping hand from Hannibal. “Are you sure you want this one? It’s not a non-fiction, it’s a story, is that alright?”

Will recognised the title, Watership Down, although he had never read the book himself. Alex nodded quickly. 

“Because you don’t tell me bedtime stories anymore.”

“OK, if you’re sure,” Will opened the book, surprised at how small the print was. It would take a long time to read this to Alex. 

“I will leave you to enjoy your story,” Hannibal stood smoothly as Alex snuggled into his side so that he could look at the book too. Will nodded distractedly, his fingertip still feeling slightly damp from where he’d touched Hannibal. 

“I don’t have a watch, you’ll have to come and get Sasha when it’s time for his next lesson.”

“Of course,” Hannibal nodded, “Or perhaps I should get you a watch of your own.”

Will blushed. The offer of a watch was a reward, a reward for not trying to run away this morning, for returning promptly, for proving he was trustworthy. Will couldn’t stop the flare of pride. 

_“The two rabbits went up to the board at a hopping run,”_ Will began, feeling Alex relax against him. He looped one arm over Alex’s shoulder, holding him close as he held the book open with one hand. 

He had no sense of time passing, beyond the turning of pages. Whenever he paused, he could hear noises coming from inside the house. Hannibal had put on some music and the kitchen window was open so that he could hear the clanging of pots and pans. There was a vague smell of onions being fried. Will felt a lump forming in his throat and had to cough so that he could continue reading. He’d never, in all his life, felt as peaceful and content as he did right now. 

“Daddy? Are you OK?” Alex asked him, his red eyes looking up at him with worry. 

“Yeah,” Will said, feeling slightly choked. 

“Do you like the story? Some of the words are pretty big, but we can stop if you don’t like it?” Alex said, squirming anxiously. 

“No, no,” Will began, but just then Hannibal stepped outside, his face expressionless as he surveyed the two of them. “I like it a lot. We’ll read more tomorrow. Here’s Papa so it must be time for your next class, OK?”

“Indeed it is, come on, Sasha. I think you will enjoy -” Hannibal took Alex by the hand, leading him indoors and away, leaving Will by himself. Tears formed in Will’s eyes, though he wasn’t sure why. He finally had a family, a place to belong and he should be happy. He rubbed the tears from his eyes, folded down the corner of the page to mark where he was up to and went inside. The smell of Hannibal’s cooking infused the house and, while it smelled delicious, Will had the urge to go and pour himself a drink, to just get as drunk as he could so that he could pass out without having to dream. 

The copy of Watership Down was still in his hands and, as he clenched his fists, he wrinkled the front cover of the book. Alex would notice what he’d done when he came out of his last lesson of the day. Will tried to smooth it down, but there was a heavy crease in the thin card that he couldn’t get out.

There was nothing on the news about Hannibal. The English language station didn’t seem to think that Hannibal Lecter deserved anymore coverage. The journalists had moved on, but Will knew that Jack Crawford would still be looking for Hannibal. What would Will do if Jack came knocking at their door? 

Despite Alex’s day of classes, the afternoon and evening followed the same routine that they’d fallen into since arriving. They all ate dinner together while Alex told Will about his classes. He nodded and smiled, encouraging Alex to talk more, but he couldn’t shake a feeling of foreboding. Will swallowed his food mechanically, the taste of human flesh had become so mundane that hardly thought about the person he was consuming. 

Alex didn’t seem to notice Will’s distraction. He was very excited about the next science experiment that Hannibal and he were going to be doing and sat for ages, long after Hannibal cleared away the plates, telling Will about it. They would be growing potatoes in the classroom, and, while the idea of the pristine Hannibal Lecter muddying his hands was amusing, Will was irritated that Alex seemed so interested in Hannibal.

“- And then we’ll see which potato grows fastest. Papa thinks we’ll have to wait weeks and weeks for them to grow.”

“That’s great, but it’s past your bedtime, Sasha. You know that, go and get ready for bed.”

Alex’s face fell, the happiness giving way to the blank look that was so reminiscent of Hannibal. 

“Sorry, Daddy,” Alex said, slipping from his chair. Will felt instantly guilty. He should be glad that Alex was enjoying his education, not jealous. 

“Alex, Sasha!” Will called out, but his son had already gone. “Fuck!” Will groaned cradling his head in his hands. He gave Alex a few minutes to get changed and then went upstairs to apologize and say goodnight. As he drew near he realized that Alex was not alone, Hannibal was already with him, and Will’s jealousy flared again. He didn’t pause to eavesdrop this time, he pushed the door open with a scowl. Hannibal was seated at the head of the bed, deep in conversation with Alex and Will instantly felt churlish. How could he enjoy being part of a family, and yet be so angry that Hannibal was part of that family?

Hannibal pulled away from his son, but Alex grabbed onto his arm.

“Papa, you haven’t told your story yet.”

“Is there time for story tonight? We will have to ask your Daddy? Will, is it too late?” Hannibal asked, his eyebrow raised tauntingly.

Will hesitated, annoyed that Hannibal had kept Alex up late and was now making him the bad guy if he said there was no time for a story.

“Please, Daddy, I’ll go straight to sleep afterwards!”

Alex’s red eyes pleaded and Will knew he couldn’t refuse, not when his son looked so plaintive and it was such a minor concession. He sat at the end of the bed and tapped Alex’s foot. 

“Very well, but only a very short story.”

“Thanks, Daddy!” Alex grinned excitedly. Will smiled back. He hoped that Alex never grew up and became embarrassed to call him Daddy. He was such a sweet child. He patted Alex’s foot through the bed sheets again and then turned his attention to Hannibal, who relaxed back against the headboard, clearly enjoying being the center of Alex and Will’s attention. 

“There was once a king whose wife was pregnant,” Hannibal began slowly. It was an odd start, usually he asked Alex if he knew the story he was about to tell. Will wondered idly if Hannibal was making this story up completely. “This king was desperate for a son, so he swore to his wife that if the child was born a girl, then he would have it killed. If it was a boy, then he would let it live. 

“The queen was devastated by his threat, because she knew she would love her child no matter if it was a boy or a girl. The child was born, and she was little girl, but the queen was able to disguise the child as a boy and so the king spared his daughter’s life. The king named her Iphis, which is a boy’s name, but also a girl’s name, which pleased the queen greatly. The child grew older and continued to hide her true nature from everyone but her mother. She lived her life as a boy, until, one day, the king told her that she must get married.

“The king arranged for her to marry a woman called Ianthe, who was incredibly beautiful. At first Iphis was insulted that her father had arranged her marriage, but then she saw Ianthe, and she instantly fell deeply in love her. Ianthe, in turn, fell in love with her, but she believed, as everyone else did, that Iphis was a man.

“The night before the wedding, Iphis despaired. She loved Ianthe, but she feared that Ianthe would reject her after they were wed and Ianthe found out she was a woman. That night she prayed to the gods to change her into a man so that Ianthe would love her. 

“The gods answered her prayers, and Iphis was changed into a man. The next day she married Ianthe and the two of them lived happily for the rest of their lives together.”

Alex sat still for a moment, waiting for Hannibal to continue. When he realized that the story was finished he frowned up at Hannibal, clearly unhappy with the way the story had ended.

“That’s not right. If you love someone it shouldn’t matter if it’s two men or two women. Like you and Daddy.”

“You are correct, such things shouldn’t matter. Do you think that is what this story is about, Sasha? Iphis is forced to change because of her love’s expectations. Do you think that’s a good idea?”

Alex’s frown deepened and he shot a look at Will. His little face was scrunched up in thought.

“Maybe. Maybe, she could of changed a little bit. But only if she wanted to. If Ianthe really loved Iphis she wouldn’t have cared that she was a woman.”

“Perhaps, but that is the story. Good-night, Sasha. I have to make some preparations for tomorrow’s lessons,” Hannibal smiled and kissed Alex good-night, leaving the room quickly, but Alex’s frown remained.

“Sasha, it’s just bedtime story. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“Do you think she should have changed into a man, Daddy?”

“I think,” Will said with mischievous smile, “That it’s a story that your Papa heard when he was a kid and he thought you might like it. I don’t think Iphis is a real person.”

“No, but…” he trailed off, before starting again in a more determined tone. “Would you love me more if I were better?”

“I couldn’t love you anymore than I do,” Will sighed, moving to sit on the bed next to Alex and copying Hannibal’s earlier position by putting his arm round Alex’s shoulders. 

“Yeah, but sometimes you say that I should wear clothes with Batman on it, or or I should give my seagull a name. Would you love me more if I did?”

“No,” Will said firmly. “I love you just as you are.”

“I gave Dodie a name!” Alex whined, looking up at Will with wide eyes.

“I know, baby. Hey,” Will stroked Alex’s shoulder reassuringly. “I will always love you, even if you never name any of your toys. Sasha, there’s nothing you could do that would stop me loving you.”

Alex looked at him, looking more like Hannibal than he ever had before as he scrutinised Will. It was disconcerting. He’d never thought that Alex was anything other than perfect, but now he remembered what Hannibal had said about him being different to other children his age. Will hadn’t believed him at the time, but ultimately it wouldn’t matter. He would always love his son.

“Where is Dodie anyway?” Will had thought that the dinosaur had fallen out of favor recently, as he hadn’t seen him in awhile.

“Here,” Alex pulled him out from under his pillow. The soft toy was held up to Will for inspection. 

“Very good. Alright,” Will took Dodie and tucked him under the blanket next to Alex, “You go to sleep now.”

“Good-night, Daddy,” Alex raised his head, tilting it slightly so that his cheek was presented for Will to kiss.

“Good-night, little faun.”

With Alex settled, Will felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The foreboding he’d felt earlier had been pointless. There was no uncertain gloom in the future, there was only Hannibal and having to navigate around his partner’s brutal nature.

Hannibal had already started a fire in the room they usually sat in each evening. It crackled softly and bathed the room in a gentle light. It should have been a beautiful evening together, but Will knew something was wrong the second he saw Hannibal. His shoulders were too tense, his face too blank. 

Will’s thoughts whirred in his head, jumping to the only conclusion that made any sense. 

“You said,” Will said, stepping forward, “You promised, only those who hurt Alex. Sasha. She’s just an old woman who lost her grandchild. This is wrong!”

Hannibal cocked his head, his eyes showing his pleasure that Will understood him so well.

“She is a threat to us. She is already suspicious of us, as yet she has no evidence and her family think she is paranoid with grief. But if she continues, then she will become a threat. How will you protect Sasha from an Italian jail cell?”

Will felt tears in his eye and he sat down quickly. He’d felt calm when he left Alex’s bedroom, he’d thought, for those brief few seconds, that he could cope with what Hannibal was, but he’d been lying to himself. He wasn’t a murderer and he couldn’t condone it, not again, not even for Alex’s sake.

“You’re never going to stop. You’re just going to go on killing,” Will cradled his arms to his chest. There was some part of him that had always hoped that if he loved Hannibal enough, if they were happy enough as a family, then Hannibal wouldn’t need to kill. He’d been a fool. The last traces of his hope died. Tears streamed down his face, but he didn’t bother wiping them away. He was utterly broken. “Go. Do it. I can’t take anymore. Kill whoever you want. I just don’t care.”

Hannibal knelt beside his chair and wiped away his tears with his thumb. He licked at his thumb, tasting Will’s tears and making Will turn away so that he didn’t have to see Hannibal’s eyes dilate with lust at the taste of his sorrow. He didn’t care that Hannibal was mocking him, he was too empty to care. 

Hannibal’s wet thumb caressed his cheek, gathering up the last of his tears. This time Hannibal pressed his thumb to Will’s lips. He opened his mouth and tasted the salty thumb. 

“And if I didn’t kill her, what would happen to Alex?”

His sweet son was sleeping upstairs. When they had lived in Florida it had been so easy to only see the physical similarities between Alex and Hannibal, but now the mental ones were becoming more apparent. Hannibal was trying to shape Alex, but only because he already saw himself so clearly in the boy. Just as Hannibal would never stop killing, he’d never stop shaping Alex. Not until the son had been made to reflect his father’s image perfectly.

“Alex is better off without us in his life,” Will sniffed, ashamed. He’d promised himself so many times in the years since Alex had been born, that he would never treat his son as his own father had treated him. Yet here he was, giving up on his son. Admitting that Alex was better off without him. 

“How can one bitter old woman’s life by worth this much?” Will heard the contempt in Hannibal’s voice. He knew that he must look a mess. His eyes felt swollen and his nose was blocked. He wiped the back of his hand over his face, trying to tidy himself up. Hannibal left his side, and returned seconds later with a glass of water. Will sipped slowly. He felt calmer and strangely detached. His mind had been stretched thin with worry and frustration and fear, but now his mind felt like it had snapped and he was just empty. 

Why was he crying over the life of one old woman? She was a rude woman who had raised a rude grandson. Her life wasn’t worth all this fuss

“No, no. I,” Will took another deep glug of water. How could he possibly explain to Hannibal how tired his head was and how much it hurt to feel anything. ‘I’m too tired to fight.”

Hannibal took the glass from his hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

“You are so strong, my darling, you have exhausted yourself,” Hannibal put his arms around him and lifted him up into the air as if he were as light as a child. “And very soon you will be perfect.”

Will struggled, not able to find his feet until Hannibal released him.

“I’m going now, Will. I won’t kill her, but she can’t be left on the loose any longer. I’m going to put her in the basement and she’ll die in the same way that her grandson died. We’ll kill her together.” 

“Alright,” Will whispered. Hannibal kissed his forehead again. 

“I have to change my clothes before I leave, perhaps you could use this time to consider accompanying me. It is, after all, a lovely evening.”

Will pushed Hannibal way, sneering. Hannibal was going to kill someone and he wanted to turn it into a romantic stroll. 

“No?” Hannibal tilted his head, he was standing so close that Will could see every eyelash, every wrinkle, on Hannibal’s handsome face. Even now he couldn’t look at Hannibal’s lips without imagining them pressed against his skin. The heat of Hannibal’s kisses. It turned his stomach to be attracted to such a man. Will sank back into the chair, not deigning to answer Hannibal. 

Whatever Hannibal saw when he looked at him seemed to amuse him, he smirked at Will and bowed his head slightly before leaving. 

The fire that Hannibal had lit was roaring. The flames licking at the logs with vigour and Will found himself mesmerised. It was easier to watch the flames than think about what Hannibal was up to. He curled up in the chair, making himself as small as possible. 

“Daddy?” Alex called out, rubbing his small, chubby fist into his tired, puffy eyes. He was carrying Dodie, who was dangling limply from Alex’s hand. “Is Papa going out?”

“Just for a little bit, little faun, it’s nothing to worry about. Come on,” Will went to crouch down in front of his sleepy son, “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“No,” Alex said firmly, “If Papa’s leaving then I have to stay up.”

“Of course you don’t,” Will smiled, but Alex frowned at him angrily until Will saw how determined he was. “Why do you have to stay up?” Will asked, trying to placate the child. 

“Because, cos, it’s Papa and mine’s job to protect you, Daddy. And, if Papa goes then I’ll have to do it by myself. Night time is more dangerous than day time, everyone knows that. ” Alex’s voice got higher and shriller as he became more panicked.

“Shh, shh, it’s ok, it’s ok,” Will pulled his son forward into a tight hug. He could feel Alex shaking slightly. “Alex, you’re a big boy, but I’m your father. It’s my job to look after you, not the other way round. You know that. Anyway, there’s no danger, we’re perfectly safe here, see? No one can get into this house. There’s nothing to worry about.”

Alex pushed away and Will could see tears forming in his son’s maroon eyes.

“Please, Daddy, please don’t let Papa leave.”

Will cupped Alex’s cheek and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

“He’s not going to be gone long. Let’s get you back to bed and I can read you a story. We can wait up until Papa comes home. Would you like that?”

“No!” Alex clenched his fist around Dodie’s head in a gesture that Will recognised as something he did when he was frustrated. 

“Sasha? Why aren’t you in bed? It is very late,” Hannibal asked from the hallway. He had changed into a darker suit, with a loose fitting black coat and a wide brimmed hat. It gave him a strange appearance that was very different from the sleek lines of the suits that he usually favored. Walking along the dark night streets his figure would be completely unrecognisable. 

Alex turned to him, calming down instantly.

“Papa! You have take Daddy with you and keep him safe!”

Hannibal looked squarely at Will for a moment. 

“You are tired and very upset, Sasha, but there is no need to concern yourself. Your concern for your father does you credit.”

Will flushed angrily. He knew that Hannibal’s words were aimed at him. Alex worried about him, but only minutes earlier Will had declared that Alex would be better off without him. He’d said that he would abandon his only son for an Italian jail cell rather than kill. 

“I can’t go with him, Alex. I don’t want to leave you all alone.”

Alex looked at him with an expression of unadulterated hope. 

“I’ll be OK. I’ll go to bed. I’ll go straight to sleep.”

“You are very welcome to accompany me, Will,” Hannibal’s honeyed voice cooed gently. 

He hated Hannibal just then. He was trapped and unable to vent his frustration because he didn’t want Alex to see his parents arguing. Will’s fists clenched. He wanted to open his mouth and yell but he was gagged by his own morality. He knew, instinctively and completely, that if he accompanied Hannibal then they would kill the old woman tonight. There would be no bringing her back to the basement and keeping her alive. She would die tonight. And Will would witness it. 

“Please, Daddy,” Alex implored, looking at him with such hope in his eyes. Will’s fists unclenched, he was being horribly manipulated but he couldn’t bear to see Alex upset. 

“Alright,” Will said, defeated.

“Wonderful,” Hannibal smiled tightly, “Although you will have to get changed.”

He herded Will and Alex back upstairs. Alex went back to bed without protest but as soon as Alex was tucked in, Will scowled at Hannibal. 

Hannibal seemed oblivious and started to get out some dark clothes for Will to change into. They were Hannibal’s own clothes and far too big for Will, but they were designed to be loose. Will didn’t care if he looked ridiculous in them.

“You woke him up. You upset him and made him think God-knows-what would happen to me if I didn’t come with you. You used our son to manipulate me!”

“Will!” Hannibal said sharply, holding up his hand for calm. “That is simply not true. I inadvertently woke him up as I came upstairs, this is an old house and the floorboards creak. There was nothing more sinister to it than that. You see my every action as some calculated move, but the truth is that Alex has been through a great deal. He was kidnapped and held hostage, he is adapting to our new family dynamic away from the only home that he has ever known. Is it any wonder that he is overprotective of you?”

Will hesitated. It did make sense when Hannibal put it like that. He shook his head. He knew what Hannibal was. He was a man incapable of not manipulating and playing the emotions of those around him. Hannibal took a hat from the closet as Will pulled on the black coat that Hannibal had given him. It hung awkwardly from his shoulders, and the sleeves dangled past his hands. It reminded him of when he’d been a child. On the rare occasions that his mom had bought him brand new clothes they had always been too big. He’d always been told that he would grow into the baggy clothes. 

“Is this yours?” Will asked skeptically, holding up his hand so that Hannibal could see how long the sleeves were. Hannibal chuckled and put the hat on Will’s head. 

“It was my uncle’s,” Hannibal explained, taking hold of Will’s cuff and folding it over and over so that it rested at his wrist. “He was a large man and had an intense dislike of anything remotely fashionable.”

If Hannibal was trying to be funny Will wasn’t amused. He silently lifted his other hand for Hannibal to correct the other cuff. He was getting dressed to go and kill someone. Minutes ago he’d been crying at the thought of Hannibal killing, and now he would actually witness it. If he could find any emotion left in him he would be angry, but he was empty and there was nothing to feel. 

“I don’t want to come with you. I don’t want to do this.” Will’s voice was flat. 

“You could remain hidden in here and we could lie to Sasha and tell him that we both went out.”

It was a tempting offer, but he knew he couldn’t accept it. He might hide certain truths from Alex, but the idea of flat out lying to him was too much. 

He didn’t give Hannibal a verbal answer. It wasn’t necessary. He just left, Hannibal just behind him. 

The old woman was standing, hunched over, about thirty yards down the street. She shuffled slightly as they shut the gate behind them and Will knew that she intended to follow them wherever they went. Hannibal was right, she was a liability. 

Hannibal walked away, not even looking round at her and Will hurried to keep pace with him. Behind them, he heard the click-clack of her shoes against the cobblestones. The noise echoed against the sides of the medieval buildings. Will didn’t turn to look at her again. By the light of a streetlamp he examined Hannibal. The man was excited and primed for a kill, but he exuded that same sense of unwavering confidence that he always did. They passed the streetlamp and Will couldn’t make out Hannibal’s face in the dark for a few seconds until they came to the next streetlamp. When the light illuminated Hannibal’s face again Will saw that he was smirking. He was showing off for Will. 

They carried on walking, going further into the night. Will didn’t recognize the route that Hannibal was taking them. The roads became narrower and narrower, so that Will doubted a car would be able to fit, then occasionally opening suddenly into wide piazzas. All the time, behind them, there was the steady sound of the old woman’s shoes. In the narrow streets they barely passed a soul, and it made the city feel deserted. Then they would emerge into a piazza and see a few late night stragglers. Will put his head down each time, letting the brim of his hat cover his face. 

“Up here, my sweet,” Hannibal said softly, grabbing Will’s elbow suddenly and turning him sharply. In front of them was another narrow, poorly lit alleyway with a set of steep stairs, lined with cobblestones. Even for a healthy adult these stairs would be treacherous to climb in the darkness. For an old woman it would be downright dangerous. This was where Hannibal intended to kill her, and he was going to make it look like an accidental death. 

Hannibal was still gripping his elbow, pulling him up the cobbled stairs so quickly that Will nearly stumbled himself. Hannibal didn’t let him fall. The old woman was going to fall down these same steps that they were now going up. A person was about to die on the stones that he was walking on right now. He should be disgusted, but he was still empty. 

The alley was dark at the top of the stairs, lit by a single lamp post that shone dimly, lighting only the area around the light and not illuminating the old street at all. It was the most perfect place for an ambush. So perfect that he wondered if Hannibal had been here before, if he’d murdered someone this way before. 

He could hear the click of the old woman’s shoes as she climbed the stairs in a disjointed stacccato that got louder and closer and Hannibal bundled them into a recessed doorway that only partially hid them. 

“Stop!” Will hissed, but then Hannibal was pressed against him. The fine cloth of his coat filling Will’s mouth as his face was pressed against Hannibal’s shoulder. If he’d really wanted to stop this, Will realized dimly, then he should have yelled a warning to the woman, not a whispered word to Hannibal. 

He could feel Hannibal’s breath on his hair as the man’s arms encircled him. 

“You know, I am doing this for us, my love. For Alex, for our family,” Hannibal said softly, the click of the old woman’s shoes keeping beat to his words. Will knew Hannibal was telling the truth and he couldn’t hate him for what he was about to do. 

“You!” The old woman had reached the top of the stairs, an ugly expression on her withered face as she sneered at them. “I see what you are! Tell me, tell me where it is my grandson.”

Hannibal stepped towards her looking as self-assured as ever. He didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a man, an attractive man, a father, the man that Will loved, but not a monster. He was just Hannibal. 

The hand that Hannibal lifted looked almost conciliatory, as if he intended to offer her help. But then he grabbed her shoulder and pushed. She was still standing on the top step, and for a second she teetered, falling back so slowly that she seemed to be almost flying. Then she was gone. There was a dull thud as she hit the steps and then continued to fall, tumbling down. It seemed to go for ages. Will closed his eyes but he could still hear the noises. He hadn’t thought there were so many stairs. 

“Will,” Hannibal said softly, and he opened his eyes to see that Hannibal was offering him his hand with the same gesture that he’d just given the old woman. “It’s done. Let’s go home.”

He nodded and took Hannibal’s gloved hand. Hannibal descended one of the stairs. 

“What are you doing? We can’t! We can’t go that way,” Will whispered furiously, trying to pull his hand from Hannibal’s. 

“We have to check,” Hannibal said smoothly, as if he were teaching some simple concept to Alex. Will hesitated, he didn’t want to walk past the old woman’s corpse. He didn’t want to see what Hannibal would do if the fall hadn’t killed her. “Time is of the essence.”

Will let himself be led down the stairs, keeping his eyes down so that he couldn’t look at what was waiting for them at the foot of the stairs. There was no blood on the cobbles under his feet. 

The old woman was very obviously dead. Her head was twisted at an inhuman angle and there was blood on her inhuman claws. She looked so old and fragile in a way that she hadn’t in life. Hannibal squeezed his hand, breaking him from his reverie.

“Home, my darling.”

Will was too numb to do anything other than follow the hand that kept him anchored. His earlier tears had washed away his humanity. All that was left was a vast emptiness inside him. 

Stepping back into the house, he felt unbearably hot. He pulled off the loose outer clothes that Hannibal had given him, letting them fall to the ground. He didn’t care about them. There was only one thing in his life that was important. Will made his way to Alex’s room, while Hannibal picked up the clothes that he’d let fall. 

Alex was asleep, but, when Will lay down next to him, the boy snuggled closer, as if he could sense his father, even in his sleep. Will hugged him as tightly as he dared without waking him. He would do anything for his son. Hannibal, according to their current agreement, would only kill those that were a threat to Alex. But it was Hannibal’s nature to kill. He wanted to kill, he wanted to hunt and to eat. So long as they kept to their current agreement Hannibal would create situations where Alex was endangered, just so that Will would give him permission to kill. He was putting Alex at risk. He was exposing Alex to Hannibal’s manipulations. It would be safer for Alex if Will said that Hannibal could kill the rude, as was his wont. 

Alex let out a small snore and moved closer, burying his face in Will’s neck. 

Perhaps Hannibal had been telling the truth and he truly hadn’t caused Alex’s earlier panic about his safety. Alex had been through a great deal and he’d never really had a chance to adjust. Will had failed him, but he was determined not to do so again. 

“Come to bed, Will,” Hannibal whispered from the doorway. Will slowly released Alex, not answering Hannibal and waiting until he’d left before getting up himself. 

“Goodnight, baby,” Will said quietly. Alex burbled something in his sleep, a half formed, meaningless word that Will couldn’t make out. He’d let the rude die, if it meant that Alex was no longer put into dangerous situations. 

“I’ve changed my mind,” Will began as soon as he entered the bedroom. Hannibal had shut the shutters, turned on the bedside lamp and taken off all his clothes. He looked at alluring as he had the previous night. Seeing him murder an old woman had done nothing to dampen Will’s attraction to him. Will glanced at Hannibal’s face, but it was difficult to keep his eyes there. Without thinking about it, his eyes wandered down to Hannibal’s crotch. 

“About what, Will?”

Will licked his lips, struggling for a second to decipher Hannibal’s question. Despite Will’s gaze, Hannibal’s cock remained soft against his balls. What would the soft flesh of Hannibal’s foreskin feel like against his lips?

Will turned away. He couldn’t let himself get distracted. 

“I want to change our agreement. Go back to killing the rude. I don’t want you to use Alex as a justification to kill.”

Hannibal was silent for so long that Will turned around to see Hannibal’s cock was hard and jutting out from his body like an invitation. Hannibal’s hands rested at his side, exactly where they had been before. 

“As you wish, my darling. Only the rude. Now, come to bed, I’ll turn the light off for you, if you like?”

Will pulled off his sweater. He’d given in to Hannibal completely. He'd agreed that he could kill with impunity, so what point was there in hiding any longer? He started to unbutton his shirt, pausing when he got to his ugly belly. He wasn’t ready for Hannibal to examine those scars yet. 

“Yeah, turn the light off.”

The light clicked off immediately, but Hannibal was waiting for him when he got into bed, pulling off the underwear that Will had left on. Will didn’t make a sound of protest. 

The heat of Hannibal’s desire was overwhelming, charging the atmosphere before Hannibal even touched him. Will pushed his face towards where he thought Hannibal was. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t done this before. He couldn’t remember why he hadn’t acted on his lust before. It seemed amazing to him that they’d slept, naked, next to each other, but hardly touched. Why had he felt so confused when his love and his lust made everything so simple?

The tongue that pushed into his mouth seemed to fill him. He couldn’t breath and he didn’t want to. His cock rubbed against Hannibal’s belly and he moaned. He was so desperate, he’d hungered for this for so long. He’d told himself that it was wrong to want this, but he couldn’t remember why. Hannibal pushed him onto his back with strong arms that seemed caress him as they confined him. No-one had ever wanted him like Hannibal did. No-one had ever needed him in the way that Hannibal did. This was more than sex, this was a unification. Hannibal would fill the emptiness inside him, would make him complete.

Hannibal’s slippery, lube covered fingers were already at his hole, the first finger pushing gently inside him. He could almost taste Hannibal’s greed. This would not be slow. This was a reclaiming after years apart. Will opened his legs wider wanting to feel Hannibal’s strength. 

“Stop!” Will gasped, an ugly thought surfacing through the maelstrom of his own desire. He didn’t want Hannibal’s thick fingers to stop pushing, but they couldn’t continue like this. “We need...need protection.” 

“Protection?” Hannibal moved away, and under Will’s hand he felt the muscles of Hannibal’s neck tense, as if he’d said something insulting. In the darkness, Will couldn’t see the expression on Hannibal’s face, but he was sure it would be blank. He was sure that Hannibal would make him explain, would make him say the words himself, but when Hannibal finally spoke it was in a tone of pure wonder. 

“You’re still fertile, aren’t you, sweet William?”

“Yeah,” Will muttered unhappily. 

“Oh, my sweet William,” Hannibal said softly, lifting himself over Will’s body so that he was entirely surrounded by the larger man. A possessive hand ran along the scar on his abdomen that had been left behind by the linoleum cutter. Will blushed harder and tried to remember the pain of the wound which had given him that scar, but all he could feel was happiness as Hannibal stroked him and the mark which declared him as Hannibal’s.

Hannibal’s fingers trailed up the scar left behind from his Caesarian. His stomach was a mess of hobbled skin, but Hannibal seemed fascinated by it. His eagerness to touch made Will feel attractive in a way he had thought he never would again. That he had only briefly felt in the past. Only one man had ever inspired such feelings in him and now that man was lying on top of him.

“My beautiful Will, my perfect creation. We can’t do this,” Hannibal pulled away suddenly. Will could hear him breathing heavily in the dark, and it pleased him that, even if Hannibal was rejecting him, then at least he’d been able to effect Hannibal that much. He’d made him pant with desire. Will rolled away, the sting of Hannibal’s rejection was far worse than anything else that had happened that night. 

“Wait here,” Hannibal said eventually and Will felt him slipping from the bed and the creak of the bedroom door as Hannibal left. He’d spent so long assuming that Hannibal would be excited to find out that he was still fertile, that he would press Will for another child, that Will couldn’t understand what was happening. “I apologize, my darling.” Hannibal said, making his way back to bed. “I was startled.”

Will rolled over again and Hannibal instantly pressed against him, pushing him into place. The lubed fingers returned to his hole, slipping into him and Will didn’t care about anything beyond getting Hannibal inside him. He didn’t know if Hannibal had put a condom on or not. He couldn’t ask because the only noises coming out of his mouth were guttural moans. Will lifted his hips, thrusting down onto Hannibal’s retreating fingers. 

Hannibal grabbed his ankles, holding them apart. In the dark, Will was only sensation, he couldn’t see anything at all and it was only when he felt Hannibal’s weight against his legs that he knew precisely where Hannibal was. Something poked at his hole, nudging blindly until it caught and then Hannibal surged forward. He had put a condom on. The plastic slid into him slowly, rubbing at him in a way that skin didn’t. Fucking into him, but still not close enough. He wanted to feel Hannibal inside him. He wanted to be made complete, but the plastic of the condom felt fake, as if Hannibal was fucking him with a dildo rather than his own perfect cock. 

“Please, please,” Will begged, wanting to tell Hannibal to take the condom off but he knew it would be wrong. Hannibal, misunderstanding him, pounded into him harder. He screamed, he was going to break in two, Hannibal’s thrusts were so forceful. It hurt, and yet it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel Hannibal inside him, but all he felt was the slide of plastic. 

Hannibal changed angles, battering into his prostate too directly. He wanted to get away from this painful pleasure, but Hannibal was holding him too tightly and, when he opened his mouth to tell Hannibal to stop, no words came out, just more inarticulate noises. He let out a sob and pushed himself back, skewering himself onto Hannibal’s cock, wanting to feel flesh against him. 

Hannibal pulled out harshly, there wasn’t enough lube and the plastic stung. He was pushed onto his stomach and pulled onto his hands and knees before Hannibal re-entered him too quickly. 

“Will,” Hannibal’s voice was a broken whisper in his ear and he leaned his head back, trying to rub his cheek against Hannibal’s cheek. One of Hannibal’s strong arms wrapped itself around his throat, keeping his head in place; pulling him backwards so that Will thought his back might break. There wasn’t enough air in his lungs, but he didn’t care. 

Hannibal’s plastic cock thundered against his prostate again and it hurt. He couldn’t scream anymore, he couldn’t catch his breath. He gurgled an inhuman noise as his orgasm hit. 

Hannibal stilled, holding him close as his own body was wracked with the throes of his orgasm.  
Slowly, Hannibal released him, moving so slowly that Will knew that he didn’t want to let him go. Will coughed, his throat raw and painful and fresh air hit his lungs. It felt so good. He gulped back a lungful of refreshing air and made himself cough again. 

Hannibal pushed into him one last forceful time and then stilled. Will hadn’t felt him come, but the sex had been rough and the condom had dulled his senses. He wasn’t sure if he could have felt the twitching of Hannibal’s cock inside him as he came. 

“Will,” Hannibal’s beautiful voice was practically a moan

He bit into the flesh Hannibal’s forearm as hard as could, but he didn’t taste blood, couldn’t break through the skin. It was if Hannibal’s body was impervious to him, incapable of being harmed by him. He felt Hannibal’s blood thrumming in his veins, the pulse of Hannibal’s heartbeat echoing along his teeth. He slumped down, his body going lax as he fell. His arms sprawled out into a position that reminded him of the corpse of the old Italian woman. 

“I don’t want to kill people,” he said, Hannibal’s softening cock still inside him. Above him he heard a small sigh, as if Will had said something mildly unpleasant and Hannibal was humoring him. Will flinched, embarrassed that he’d ruined the mood. Hannibal’s hand gently stroked his side and Will relaxed as he understood that Hannibal meant the gesture as one of reassurance, of forgiveness for his gaucheness. 

Hannibal pulled away, turning the lamp on as he got out of bed. The used condom was hanging off his softening cock, and Hannibal pulled it off cautiously. Will didn’t think he’d ever seen the man do something so unrepentantly and ridiculously human. Hannibal went to dispose of the condom and settled down on the bed when he returned. The lamp remained on. Will knew that Hannibal wanted to discuss what they’d just done, and no amount of arguing would stop a determined Hannibal. 

“Why weren’t you sterilised after Sasha was born?”

Will shrugged, refusing to answer Hannibal and feed his ego any more. Hannibal’s eye shone smugly as if he had guessed Will’s reasons.

“Was there a medical objection to the procedure?”

“No,” Will ground his teeth. “I just wanted to get Alex home.”

“And you never found the time to get it done in the intervening years?”

“I didn’t think it was necessary, OK?” Will flipped onto his back to avoid watching as Hannibal pushed his shoulders back with unmistakable pride, his lips twisting into a small smirk that only lasted a second.

“Surely you saw the necessity, Will?” Hannibal rubbed his fingertips into his forehead in a gesture of overwhelmed concern that Will wasn’t sure was fake or not. “Male pregnancies are always dangerous. Not quite as dangerous as female ectopic pregnancies, but nonetheless. A second pregnancy could kill you, and I simply cannot risk that. You must be sterilised. I am loath to perform the procedure here and I am unfamiliar with the local surgeons, but I will see what arrangements can be made in the morning.” 

“Hannibal," Will’s voice cracked. He’d been so sure that Hannibal would be desperate for another child. Just as he’d been sure that Hannibal would help retrieve Alex from the clutches of the Ripper Copycat. He couldn’t comprehend how he could have misjudged the situation so much. 

“I am sorry, Will. I am deeply touched that you didn’t get yourself sterilised before.”

“Hannibal,” his voice sounded steadier now, but it was barely a whisper. He’d been telling himself that he wouldn’t let Hannibal get him pregnant again, that it was ridiculous to dream of another child but, in the face of Hannibal’s rejection, he felt entirely lost. His idle daydream of Sasha having a little brother or sister was being ripped from him and he was only just realizing how much he’d wanted a second child.

“I could not bear to lose you, my darling. I love Sasha, and I would love any child of ours. But it is not worth risking your life for.”

“It’s not that dangerous,” Will’s grasped his stomach, rubbing it with his hand convulsively as if he were already protecting his unborn child.

“How much danger do you think I should accept?” Hannibal asked, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling in worry.

“It’s my body!”

“Yes, but it’s my family. I could not raise Sasha without you. Let’s discuss it in the morning. I’m sure things will seem clearer then.”

Hannibal turned the light off and gathered Will into his arms. Will was too shocked to move or object. He wasn’t sure how it had happened but he was arguing for the right to have another child when, up until now, he’d been determined to get himself sterilised. He pushed Hannibal away and lay in the dark, his hand still protecting his stomach.


End file.
